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10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


V 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


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empreinte. 

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Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
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illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

I 


30    YEARS 


The  Ojibue  Conquest; 


gin  Jniian  (&i^m&t 


WITH 


OTHER  WAIFS  OF  LEISURE  HOURS. 


BY 


J.    T.    CIvARK. 


I^V   (^V   i^v   ^^v 


Souvenir  Edition. 


Copyright,  1898,  by 
JULIUS  TAYLOR  CLARK. 


^^^SSiiiiii 


DeMcateb 


TO 

MY  DEAR  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN 

WHOM  GOD  HAS  GRACIOUSLY 

SPARED  TO   ME,— THE 

COMFORT  OF  MY 

FAILING 

YEARS. 


I  si 


w 


D 
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fu 
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P< 
th 

a 

li( 

ai 

SI 


ing — ■» 


PREFACE. 


HE  OJIBUE    CONQUEST  was  written 
about  A.  D.  1845,  while  the  author  was 
spending  some  time  among  this  tribe  of 
Indians,  under  appointment  of  the  Indian 
Department  of  the  General  Government. 

Soon  after  my  return  to  my  then  home,  at  Madison, 
Wisconsin,  I  was  visited  by  a  native  Indian  Convert, 
who  had  been  educated  in  one  of  the  missionary 
schools,  and  who  was  engaged  in  an  effort  to  raise 
funds  to  aid  him  in  his  work  among  his  people. 
During  my  conversation  with  him  concerning  his 
tribe,  I  showed  to  him  my  manuscript  relative  to  a 
portion  of  their  history.  As  he  was  about  to  visit 
the  eastern  cities  in  behalf  of  his  cause,  he  asked  as 
a  favor  that  I  would  permit  him  take  a  copy  for  pub- 
lication, and  let  him  share  in  whatever  profits  might 
arise  from  it.  Thinking  that  possibly  he  might  be 
successful,  I  consented  to  his  request. 
As  I  learned  from  his  letters  to  me  subsequently, 


VI 


PREFACE. 


he  found  it  difficult  to  accomplish  his  purpose,  and 
finally  wrote  to  me  that  he  would  fail  unless  I  per- 
mitted him  to  publish  it  in  his  own  name.  To  this 
I  replied  that  he  was  at  liberty  so  to  do.  That  was 
the  last  information  I  received  from  him ;  and  if  it 
was  published,  I  have  never  seen  a  copy,  and  have 
no  means  of  knowing  what  success  he  may  have  ex- 
perienced. 

After  fifty  years  of  active  professional  and  business 
life,  during  which  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  the 
manuscript  had  practically  passed  out  of  my  mem- 
ory, I  came  across  a  copy  of  it  while  overhauling  a 
package  of  old  letters  and  other  documents,  which 
had  for  years  lain  unopened. 

PoTwiN  Place, 

ToPEKA,  Kansas. 
A.  D.  1898. 


e,  and 
I  per- 
o  this 
at  was 
dif  it 
have 
ve  ex- 

siness 

of  the 

mem- 

iling  a 

which 


f\F  all  the  numerous  and  populous  tribes  of  Indians  found  inhabit- 
ing the  Northei-n  part  of  the  Westei^  Continent  at  the  time  of 
its  discovery,  the  Sioux  and  Chippewas,  or,  more  properly,  the 
Dakotas  and  Ojibues,  alone  retain  anything  like  their  original  num- 
ber and  character.  Of  these  two  tribes  or  nations,  the  Ojibues  inhabit 
principidly  the  country  about  Lake  Superior,  extending  south  to  the 
country  of  the  Menomonees,  and  in  the  west  bordering  on  that  of  the 
Sioux,  between  whom  and  the  Ojibues  the  Mississippi,  in  the  lower 
portion,  and  its  tributaries  in  the  upper  portion,  foiin  a  common 
boundary.  It  is  a  fcict  well  known  to  all  who  have  travelled  among 
them,  or  who  are  conversant  with  their  history,  that,  ciccording  to  their 
traditions  and  histories,  as  orally  transmitted  to  the  present  age,  all 
of  the  country  lying  south  of  Lake  Superior  once  belonged  to  the 
Sioux.  By  a  constant  warfare  carried  on  for  many  years,  and  a  suc- 
cession of  misfortunes  and  defeats,  the  Sioux  were  at  length  compelled 
to  abandon  to  their  more  fortunate  enemies  all  of  their  possessions 
east  of  the  Mississippi,  and  even  a  not  inconsiderable  portion  on  the 
west  of  its  more  northern  sources.  Tradition  says  that  the  last  great 
and  most  decisive  battle  was  fought  on  what  is  called  the  Island  of 
Madeline  {in  the  Ojibue,  Moningueuna) ,  on  which  La  Pointe  now 
stands,  and  one  of  the  gi'oup  commonly  known  as  the  Twelve  Apostles, 
It  is  on  this  circumstance  that  the  following  tale  is  founded. 


-:%4 


; 

f 


The  Ojibue  Conquest. 

l^v  i^V  f^V  i^w  i^v  ^w  l^v 


THE  SAINT  LOUIS. 


(1) 


I 


I. 

There  is  a  stream  that  hath  its  ;'se 

Beneath  the  veil  of  Northern  skies, 

Where  frost  and  snows  eternal  meet 

In  fiercest  mood,  the  vvand'rer's  feet ; 

And  all  above,  beneath,  around 

Is  fast  in  icy  fetters  bound  ; 

A  gloomy  wild,  a  dreary  waste 

As  e'er  the  eye  of  man  embraced  ; 

Where  shrub — if  shrub  perchance  be  there — 

Blooms  not  as  elsewhere,  fresh  and  fair, 

But  stunted,  bare  and  small  of  growth, 

It  nestles  to  the  earth  as  loath 

To  spread  its  branches  where  the  breeze, 

Which  passes,  kisses  but  to  freeze ; 


I    .  i 


t  ■ 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

And  if  a  flower  should  lift  its  head 

From  such  inhospitable  bed, 

When  thawing  snows  may  yield  a  day 

To  Summer  sun's  resistless  sway, 

It  is  a  kind  which  doth  not  blight 

By  frosts  which  clothe  its  leaves  with  white, 

But  smiles  e'en  from  its  bed  of  snow, 

"  Like  hope  upon  the  lap  of  woe  " — 

The  .eindeer  there  roams  fleet  and  free ; — 

And  men  as  fleet  and  wild  as  he, 

Though  small  of  size,  of  iron  mould. 

No  fear  of  storms,  no  thought  of  cold  ; 

With  limbs  unchilled,  unslackened  pace, 

They  fleetly  follow  in  the  chase 

From  dawn  till  twilight  paints  the  West,  (2) 

Without  a  moment  lent  to  rest ; 

Then  stretched  at  length  upon  the  snows — 

Till  morn  they  find  unbroke  repose. 

Ah  !  little  knows  the  child  of  ease. 

Where  everything  is  culled  to  please ; — 

To  whose  convenience  every  shore. 

From  South  to  North,  must  yield  its  store; 

And  o'er  whose  well  protected  form 

There  never  beats  the  chilling  storm  ; — 


m 
1- 


•;% 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


Ah  !  little  knows  he  of  the  woes 

Which  gather  round  the  life  of  those 

Who  live  in  nature's  rudest  mood, 

In  those  deep  haunts  of  solitude  ; — 

For  though  the  tempest's  power  hath  naught 

To  their  bold  hearts  with  terror  fraught; — 

Though  youth  and  manhood  and  old  age 

Succeed  in  their  accustomed  stage  ; 

The  body  bared  to  every  wind, 

The  chase  that  leaves  the  deer  behind, — 

The  frequent  want,  the  frequent  fast, 

Break  up  life's  healthful  flow  at  last, 

And  leave  a  wreck  'tis  sad  to  see, 

Of  what  was  once  so  bold  and  free. 


; 


(2) 


II. 

Thou  fair  Saint  Louis,  such  tlie  scene 

From  wliich  thy  waters  flow ; 
But  different  far  the  land  of  green 

To  which  from  thence  they  go. 
For  many  a  long,  long  mile  they  speed, 

Through  fairer,  brighter  lands  ; 
Rapid  and  free  like  a  noble  steed 

Unchecked  by  rider's  hands — 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

From  their  far  source  to  where  they  pour 

Into  Superior's  side, 
All  is  wild  nature  on  thy  shore, — 

Man  hath  not  curbed  thy  tide ; — 
But  on  thou  flowest  in  thy  might 

Untainted  as  when  God 
First  called  thee  sparkling  into  light, 

At  his  creative  nod. 
The  vale  through  which  thy  waters  sleep  ; 
The  forest  shade,  the  craggy  steep ; — 
The  cataract  whose  thunder  fills 
The  echoes  of  a  hundred  hills ; — 
The  deep  ravine,  the  precious  mine 
Whose  ores  beneath  thy  current  shine ; — 
Such  is  the  path  thy  waters  take, 
Ere  lost  within  the  ocean  lake. 
0  !  often  on  thy  limpid  stream. 
Hid  from  the  noontide's  sultry  beam 
By  trees  whose  giant  branches  cast 
A  deep  shade  o'er  me  as  I  passed. 
Hath  my  light  bark  now  danced  along 
To  music  of  some  carolled  song. 
Or  floating  like  the  lightest  bird, 
It  only  with  the  current  stirred ;  — 


™ 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

While  I  have  passed  hour  after  hour 

Beneath  the  scene's  enchanting  power, — 

The  sweetest  perfume  on  the  air 

From  thousand  wild-flowers  growing  there ; — 

And  colors  of  the  brightest  hue 

On  every  side  that  met  the  view. 

The  wild  rose  with  its  sweets  beguiling, 

Along  thy  banks  so  brightly  smiling, 

Whose  petals,  falling  on  the  wave, 

Their  own  hue  to  the  current  gave; — 

The  mellow  light  of  different  dyes 

Which  came  from  forest-shaded  skies  ; — 

The  stillness  over  all  that  dwelt 

So  dee]^  it  could  almost  be  felt; 

All  these  have  held  me  many  a  day, 

A  willing  captive  to  their  sway. — 

Oh  !  who  that  has  a  heart  to  feel, 

W^ould  barter  one  such  hour  as  this. 
For  all  the  gay  world  can  reveal, 

Or  all  it  ever  knew  of  bliss. 
Pleasure !     In  vain  the  precious  gem 

Ye  seek  in  fashion's  heartless  throng ; 
Ask  those  who  seek  it  there,  ask  them 

Who  vainly  sought  the  phantom  long, — 


-ff 


6  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

There's  not  a  joy  that  throng  can  give, 
Which  does  not  cost  a  pang  more  deep  ; — 

There's  not  a  pleasure  it  bids  live, 
But  lulls  some  virtue  into  sleep. 

III. 

Many  a  year  has  passed  away 

Since  at  the  close  of  summer  day. 

Upon  a  green  and  level  side 

Which  overlooks  St.  Louis  tide, 

A  noble  band  of  warriors  stood, 

Who  roam  at  will  this  solitude. — 

The  bow,  the  spear,  the  barbed  dart. 

Which  errs  not,  pointed  at  the  heart; — 

The  paint  in  nicest  colors  spread. 

Not  for  maid's  love,  but  foeman's  dread; — 

The  plumes  that  in  their  braided  hair 

Waved  graceful  at  each  breath  of  air ; — 

The  trophies  in  their  battles  taken. 

Where  foeman's  prowess  had  been  shaken  ; — 

Each  warrior  there  was  decked  with  these,  (3) 

Profuse  as  summer  decks  the  trees. 

The  foremost  of  this  hero  band 

A  flag-staff  carried  in  his  hand, — 


aea- 


I 


1 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Which,  from  its  waving  top  displayed 

A  flag  most  curiously  made 

From  feathers  of  the  wild  bird's  wing,  (4) 

Of  every  shade  of  coloring. 

He  was  a  youth  in  whom  combined 

All  that  is  grand  in  form  and  mind ; 

The  noble  forehead  broad  and  high, 

The  soul  that  shone  within  his  eye, 

The  limbs  where  strength  was  seen  to  dwell 

In  every  full  yet  graceful  swell ; 

All  these  marked  him  as  one  of  those 

Where  nature's  fairest  gifts  repose  ; 

Me-gis-si — such  the  name  he  bore  ; 

The  eagle  of  the  lonely  shore : 

And  as  he  planted  on  the  ground 

That  pennon's  shaft  amid  the  sound 

Of  drum  and  song  and  echoing  shout,  (5) 

He  looked  like  Mars  himself,  come  out 

To  take,  as  in  the  days  of  yore. 

The  van  upon  the  field  of  gore. — 

Around  the  pole  wath  measured  j)ace 

Each  warrior  found  a  ready  place ; 

And  soon  the  circling  folds  advance. 

And  mingle  in  the  wild  war-dance ; 


8 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


While  ever  and  anon  a  loud 
And  piercing  whoop  rose  from  the  crowd. 
Sending  its  accents  shrill  and  clear 
In  answering  echoes  far  and  near ; 
And  when  they  died  in  air  away, 
Each  warrior  in  that  dread  array 
Stood  like  a  statue  planted  deep  ; 
So  still  and  firm  their  tracks  they  keep  ; 
While  at  each  pause,  a  brave  advanced 
Within  the  ring,  then  round  him  glanced, 
And  in  rude  eloquence  portrayed 
The  havoc  he  in  war  had  made ; — 
The  feats  of  bravery  he  had  done ; —  (6) 
The  scalps  from  slaughtered  victims  won  ; 
As  well  of  fallen  warriors  bold. 
As  wife  and  child, — of  these  he  told; 
And  as  he  held  them  out  to  view. 
Some  of  them  yet  of  fresh  blood  hue; 
And  raised  the  war-whoop  loud  and  high, 
With  swelling  breast  and  flashing  eye  ; 
He  seemed  again  amid  the  strife. 
With  which  his  tale  had  been  so  rife. — 
That  morn  had  pealed  the  rolling  drum 
Amid  the  cry  "They  come,  they  come  !" 


11 


THE  OJJBUE  CONQUEST.  9 

"  The  Sioux !  the  Sioux  I"  and  at  the  sound 

Each  warrior's  foot  was  on  the  ground  ; 

And  knife  to  knife  and  breast  to  breast, 

The  doubtful  strife  they  long  contest. 

They  fought  as  though  their  blood  were  water, — 

Resumed  again  when  ceased  the  slaughter ; — 

They  fought  like  men  whose  deadly  hate 

Nothing  but  death  could  satiate. — 

The  Sioux  at  length  were  forced  to  yield. 

And  leave  the  foe  a  hard-earned  field. 

Some  fled,  and  some  were  captive  led : — 

Better  to  have  been  with  the  dead  ; — 

Better  by  far,  for  though  to-night 

They  have  from  death  a  brief  respite ; 

They're  not  deceived,  for  well  they  know, 

To-morrow  comes  the  fatal  blow  ; — 

It  comes  with  all  the  cruel  art 

Hate  can  invent  to  wring  the  heart ; 

When,  should  it  quail  or  yield  to  fear. 

They  die  without  a  pitying  tear ; — 

They  die  and  meet  the  recreant's  end, 

Despised  alike  by  foe  and  friend. 


.■■iMMta^j 


10 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


IV. 

Tiie  dance  is  o'er,  the  revel  past, 

And  of  that  savage  host  the  last 

Has  thrown  himself  upon  the  ground, 

And  his  accustomed  slumber  found. 

Close  by  their  sides  the  captives  slept ; 

And  watch  or  guard  there  none  was  kept ; — 

For,  hand  and  foot  securely  tied, 

Vain  were  the  efforts,  had  they  tried. 

To  shake  from  off  their  limbs  the  thong 

Which  bound  them  in  its  folds  so  strong. — 

Vain  did  I  say  ?     No  !  one  was  there. 

Who  though  the  bands  he  knew  to  wear. 

While  eve  of  foe  was  on  him  bent, 

And  to  his  skill  a  caution  lent ; 

When  watchful  eyes  were  sunk  to  rest, 

And  measured  breathing  heaved  the  breast. 

Could  tear  the  shackles  from  his  flesh,  (7) 

As  easy  as  the  spider's  mesh. — 

The  frosts  of  many  winters  sped, 

Had  left  their  traces  on  his  head  ; 

His  life,  which  passed  in  constant  wars, 

Had^marked  him  with  a  thousand  scars  : 

But  every  iron  muscle  told 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


11 


That  vigor  had  not  yet  grown  old  ; — 

He  might  have  lost  youth's  spring  and  grace, 

But  strength  had  well  supplied  their  place. — 

Whether  by  force  or  magic  spell 

His  thongs  were  sundered,  none  could  tell ; 

Yet  never  but  for  one  brief  hour 

Had  they  upon  his  limbs  a  power. — 

Among  his  native  band  long  famed 

For  feats  of  strength  and  magic  art, 
He  had,  in  their  rude  tongue,  been  named 

The  Wendigo  of  Icy  Heart. —  (8) 
In  this  day's  strife  of  ancient  foes. 
To  which  the  night  had  brought  a  close, 
His  heavy  blows,  which  fell  like  rain, 
Had  marked  his  track  with  heaps  of  slain  ; — 
Through  yielding  ranks  he  held  his  pace. 
Till  like  the  rock  at  whose  firm  base 
The  ocean  breaks  in  murmurs  hoarse, 
Me-gis-si  checked  his  onward  course. 
As  springs  the  tiger  on  his  prey 
When  pressed  by  hunger,  so  sprang  they ; 
Reckless  of  all  that  might  oppose. 
They  rushed  upon  each  other's  blows, — 
And  grappled  with  a  force  they  feel. 


r^ 


12 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


To  which  the  grasp  of  vise  of  steel 
Would  be  an  infant's  touch  ; — the  knife 
Then  flashes  quick  in  deadly  strife. — 
They  fought  as  though  on  them  alone 
The  issue  of  the  day  was  thrown  ; — 
They  strove  as  though  full  well  they  knew 
With  no  mean  foe  they  had  to  do ; — 
Each  nerve  to  its  last  tension  wrought, 
Like  meeting  thunderbolts  they  fought. — 
The  Wendigo's  superior  strength 
O'ercame  youth's  suppleness  at  length ; 
And  while  Me-gis-si  freely  bleeds, 
He  of  the  icy  heart  succeeds. — 
His  blade  is  raised  to  strike  the  blow, 
The  last  he  need  to  strike, — when,  lo ! 
His  threatening  arm  all  sudden  stops. 
And  down,  as  by  a  palsy,  drops. 
He  stood  a  moment  fixed  and  still, 
Then  yielded  at  Me-gis-si's  will ; — 
And  captive  now  and  captor  keeping 
Side  by  side,  are  calmly  sleeping. 
Midnight  had  passed,  and  there  they  lay. 
In  rest  unbroke,  that  warrior  band ; — 
The  fearful  conflicts  of  the  day 


;=_-J.*st- 


..ij6-'v' 


THE  0 JIB  TIE  CONQUEST, 


13 


Had  now  relaxed  each  iron  hand. 
The  moon,  too,  now  had  sunk  to  rest 
Behind  the  hills  which  skirt  the  West ; — 
And  damp  mists  from  the  river  rose, 
And  o'er  the  banks  in  circles  close. 
A  silence  deep  was  over  all, 
Except  the  noisy  water-fall, 
That,  indistinct  by  distance,  fell. 
Alternately  in  ebb  and  swell : — 
When  hush !  a  careful  hand  is  pressed 
Lightly  upon  Me-gis-si's  breast. — 
The  touch  awoke  him  ;  quick  as  thought 
He  sprang  upon  his  feet  and  caught 
Within  one  hand  his  ready  blade, 
The  other  was  on  the  foeman  laid ; 
But  when  he  saw  in  what  calm  mood 
The  Wendigo  before  him  stood, — 
He  did  not  strike,  but  for  a  space 
They  looked  within  each  other's  face  ; — 
Me-gis-si  with  a  mingled  feeling 
Of  awe  and  wonder  o'er  him  stealing. 
And  which  he  could  not  all  conceal 
By  the  dim  light,  the  stars  reveal ; — 
Sternness  and  dignity  alone 


14  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Upon  the  other's  features  shone. 

The  Wendigo  the  silence  broke, 

As  (scarce  above  his  breath)  he  spoke  : 

"  Youth,  are  you  brave !  then  follow  me  ;"  (9) 

Thus  saying,  turning  carefully, 

And  with  a  step  that  had  no  sound 

To  wake  the  foemen  sleeping  round, 

He  passed,  and  striding  on  before. 

Pursued  the  winding  trail  that  bore 

Through  wild  grass  of  a  growth  most  rank, 

Along  the  river's  sloping  bank. 

Me-gis-si  for  a  moment  cast 

His  eyes  upon  him  as  he  passed, 

Irresolute,  then  quickly  sped 

Along  the  track  the  other  led  : 

And  now  by  the  dim  starlight  they 

Together  hold  their  silent  way. 

V. 

A  league  was  passed  yet  on  they  w^ent ; 
Whate'er  their  thoughts,  they  had  no  vent ; 
But  mute  they  still  their  way  pursued 
Deeper  within  the  solitude. 
At  length  the  youth  impatient  grown, 


I 


r» 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Stopped  and  exclaimed  in  hasty  tone, — 
"  That  I  am  brave  no  longer  thou 
Canst  doubt  from  what  thou  seest  now  ! 
If  thou  hadst  not  that  lesson  learned, 
By  yesterday's  experience  earned. 
The  distance  now  precludes  all  fear 
Of  treacherous  hand  or  listening  ear ; 
Then  tell  thy  wish,  whate'er  it  be, 
Thou'lt  find  no  coward  heart  in  me. 
Speak !  or  this  knife  may  chance  to  wear 
Another  sheath  than  that  I  bear." 
"  Peace,  fool !"  replied  the  Wendigo, 
As  quick  he  turned  and  struck  a  blow 
That  sent  the  spinning  blade  so  well, 
They  could  not  hear  it  where  it  fell : 
"  Check  thy  hot  blood,  nor  deem  that  I 
Have  brought  thee  here  for  treachery. 
Think  you,  had  I  desired  your  life, — 
Ere  you  awoke  could  not  my  knife 
Have  borne  to  your  unconscious  breast 
The  blow  that  brings  eternal  rest  ? 
I  have  a  tale  will  pierce  thy  heart 
Deeper  than  foeman's  barbed  dart. 
Doubt  not,  but  follow  me ;"  and  then 


15 


-«^i^ 


^    i 


i  f 


16  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Turned  to  pursue  the  trail  again  ; 

Nor  long  pursued  before  around 

A  bold  and  rocky  point  it  wound, 

Which  sent  its  craggy  summit  high 

Aloft  into  the  dusky  sky, 

And  terminated  in  a  cove 

Formed  by  the  arching  rocks  above.— 

Here  entered  they  and  on  a  rock. 

Torn  from  the  roof  by  some  rude  shock, 

They  took  their  seat ;  a  wilder  spot 

Throughout  the  mountain  world  is  not. 

Than  that  which  now  their  vision  bounded, 

Than  that  by  which  they  were  surrounded ; 

While  far  away  beneath  the  ground, 

There  came  a  hoarse  and  gurgling  sound 

Of  water,  into  fury  lashed. 

As  o'er  some  precipice  it  dashed. 

The  owl^  scared  by  their  entrance,  fled, 

And  screamed  its  notes  above  their  head : 

Lank  wolves  whose  den  the  cave  had  been. 

Prowled  round  them  as  they  entered  in ; — 

While  just  without  the  cavern's  door 

The  waters  of  Saint  Louis  i  oar. 

As  o'er  the  dizzy  fall  they  flow, 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


17 


d, 


And  then  an  hundred  feet  below, 

With  deafening  sound  they  break  and  boil 

Tn  endless  strife  and  wild  turmoil. 

*'  Here,  in  this  dark  and  gloomy  grot," — 

The  Wendigo  began — "  A  spot 

Where  oft  'tis  said,  the  Manitou 

Unveils  himself  to  human  view, 

And  smiles  or  frowns  as  he  discovers 

Of  truth  or  falsehood  they  are  lovers ; 

Here  let  us  rest,  while  I  disclose 

A  tale  may  change  to  friends  thy  foes ; — 

And  the  Great  Spirit  do  by  me 

As  I  shall  deal  in  truth  with  thee. 


VI. 

**  You  wonder  that  I  brought  you  here ; — 
I  cannot  tell  you  half  how  dear 
Is  this  wild  spot  to  me ; — strange  chance 
Which  brings  again  within  my  glance. 
The  scenes  where  long,  long  winters  past, 
When  the  quick  blood  of  youth  flowed  fast, 
I  wandered  with  my  bow  well  strung, 
And  quiver  o'er  my  shoulder  flung ; — 
And  if  my  arrow  rightly  sped 


9 


18 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


i't 


When  pointed  at  the  wild  bird's  head, 
Whatever  fortune  might  betide, 
My  merry  heart  was  satisfied. 
Here,  too,  in  after  years  I  roved 
In  fondness  with  the  bride  I  loved. 
This  was  our  home  till  that  foul  day 
When  the  accursed  Ojibue 
Rushed  down  upon  us,  scattering  death, 
Like  evil  spirits'  poisoned  breath  ; 
And  with  false  heart  and  bloody  hand 
Drove  us  from  our  paternal  land. 
Thou  knowest  well  the  hatred  strong 
Hath  dwelt  between  our  nations  long  ; — 
And  from  this  land  where  now  you  see 
The  curs'd  Ojibue  roving  free, 
Thou  knowest  by  that  hated  race 
The  Sioux  was  driven,  till  no  place. 
By  stream  or  mountain  now  is  left 
Of  which  he  hath  not  been  bereft. 
Strange  chance !     Upon  that  very  steep, 
Where  those,  we  left  so  lately,  sleep, 
My  wigwam  stood. — My  bride  as  bright 
As  the  unclouded  moon  at  night, 
Apuckways  from  soft  rushes  wove,  (10) 


ri^M^ 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


19 


I 


And  sang  sweet  songs  which  spake  of  love, 

While  by  her  side,  with  prattling  joy. 

Gambolled  with  happy  heart  our  boy. 

It  was  a  bright  midsummer  day ; — 

They  were  alone ; — I  was  away 

Upon  the  wild  deer's  track  :— night  fell, 

And  I  returned, — but  who  can  tell 

The  anguish  of  that  hour  !     I  came 

To  see  my  wigwam  in  a  flame  ; — 

My  wife  was  slain,  the  purple  tide 

Was  oozing  yet  warm  from  her  side  ; — 

But  still  so  sweet  was  the  faint  smile 

Which  shone  upon  her  face  the  while, 

I  could  not  deem  her  dead,  but  flung 

Myself  upon  the  ground  and  clung 

To  her  loved  side,  kissing  away 

The  crimson  drops  of  blood  that  lay 

Sprinkled  upon  her  pallid  cheeks ; 

And  then  in  wild  and  broken  shrieks 

I  fondly  called  upon  her  name; — 

I  called  in  vain  !  no  answer  came  ; 

I  kissed  her  lips,  but  closed  in  death 

Those  lips  from  which  there  came  no  breath. — 

I  sought  my  boy,  but  he  was  gone. 


TT 


H 


20 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


And  I  in  anguish  and  alone 
Stood  like  an  oak  the  Thunderbird  (11) 
Had  riven  at  the  Spirit's  word. — 
Till  that  day,  passion's  fearful  blast 
Had  never  o'er  my  spirit  passed  ; — 
No  angry  strife,  no  withering  care, 
No  burning  curse  had  entered  there. 
My  bride,  my  boy,  they  were  the  springs 
That  ever  nerved  luy  spirit's  wings. — 
But  as  I  stood  and  wept  to  view 
Her  own  heart's  blood  my  bride  bedew. 
And  thought  upon  the  hated  foe 
Whose  arm  had  dealt  the  murderous  blow, 
Dark  thoughts  within  my  soul  found  place 
In  strange  and  lightning-like  embrace. 
Horror  and  anguish  and  despair 
Mingled  in  wild  confusion  there; 
But  these  at  length  gave  place  to  one 
Deep  burning  passion,  that  alone 
Took  full  possession  of  my  breast. 
Revenge !     Revenge !     How  I  caressed 
The  darling  thought !     All  else  that  life 
Deems  worthy  of  a  mortal's  strife 
Were  swallowed  up  in  this  wild  thirst 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


21 


For  vengeance  on  the  foe  accursed. 
I  knelt  upon  the  turf  beside 
The  murdered  body  of  my  bride, 
And  with  one  liand  upon  her  head, 
The  other  with  her  warm  blood  red; 
There,  in  the  presence  of  the  dead, 
I  vowed  my  first  and  latest  breath 
To  hate  to  vengeance  and  to  death. — 
Winters  have  passed,  and  it  is  now 
Long  since  I  made  that  fearful  vow ; 
But  never  since  tliat  fatal  hour 
Hath  it  a  moment  lost  its  power. — 
How  well  it  hath  been  kept,  let  those 
Fallen  beneath  my  arm  disclose. 
Revenge!     It  is  a  powerful  charm 
To  steel  the  heart  and  nerve  the  arm  ; 
To  give  the  foot  unwonted  speed  ; 
And  to  the  eye,  in  hour  of  need, 
A  lynx-like  quickness; — such  I've  proved 
The  passion  that  within  me  moved. 
An  hundred  warriors  hath  this  hand 
Already  sent  to  that  far  land 
Where  wander  Shadows  of  the  dead  (12) 
By  the  dim  light  auroras  shed. 


22 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


Thine  would  have  been  among  the  rest, 
But  that  I  marked  upon  thy  breast 
That  which  withheld  my  ready  blade, 
Just  as  it  gleamed  above  thy  head, — 
My  bride  had  in  our  happy  hours 
Marked  with  the  dyes  of  various  flowers 
Such  as  our  tribe  alone  employ, 
Our  totem  on  our  little  boy. —  (13) 
I  saw  upon  thy  breast  that  sign  ; — 
I  knew  it  well ; — yes,  thou  art  mine; 
My  long  lost  child.     Thy  purple  veins 
No  foul  Ojibue  blood  sustains ; — 
O'er  thy  bold  form  there  is  no  trace 
Of  that  despised  snake-hearted  race ; 
Who  not  contented  our  fair  land 
To  desolate  with  knife  and  brand, 
Must  yet  our  very  sons  engage 
Contests  against  their  sires  to  wage. — 
But  theirs  no  more  thy  iron  nerve  ! 
Rather  than  thou  that  foe  should  serve, 
My  blade  shall  penetrate  thy  heart. 
E'en  though  my  only  child  thou  art. 
If  yet  a  single  spark  remains 
Of  noble  impulse  in  thy  veins, 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


23 


And  contact  with  the  Ojibue 

Hath  not  extinguished  the  last  ray 

Of  the  proud  spirit  of  thy  sires ; 

Now,  e'er  the  waning  night  expires, 

Swear  to  revenge  the  wrongs  I  bear, 

And  hers — thy  murdered  mother's, — swear  !" 

The  old  man  ceased, — and  had  the  light 

Permitted  him  the  welcome  sight, 

He  would  have  seen  that  haughty  ire 

Which  lent  his  eye  its  dazzling  fire, 

The  features  of  the  youth  reveal, 

As  thus  he  answered  the  appeal. 

"  By  the  dread  Manitou  who  dwells 

Within  these  arched  and  craggy  dells  ; — 

By  her  whose  bright  and  watchful  eye 

Was  o'er  me  bent  in  infancy, 

I  swear!"     The  echoes  of  the  word 

Along  the  cavern's  roof  were  heard ; 

And  when  they  died  away,  a  sigh 

Soft  as  when  evening  winds  pass  by  ; — 

Sweet  as  the  Swan's  expiring  notes,  (14) 

Upon  the  air  around  them  floats. 

"  Hush  !"  said  the  Wendigo,  "  It  is 

My  bride  come  from  her  bower  of  bliss. 


24 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


I! 

I 

i  i 


In  the  far  country  of  the  dead, 

To  breathe  a  blessing  o'er  thy  head. 

Thou  shadowy  spirit!  for  whose  sake  (15) 

I  live  both  when  I  sleep  and  wake; — 

Whose  influence  in  rest  or  strife 

Hath  been  the  guide-star  of  my  life, 

And  to  revenge  whose  wrongs  no  pain, 

No  torture  could  my  hand  restrain  ; — 

Delay  thy  flight  to  the  bright  shore 

Which  waits  thy  coming,  till  once  more. 

As  in  that  bitter  day,  I  swear. 

For  every  tress  of  thy  fair  hair 

Which  decked  thy  head  when  laid  so  low, 

I'll  pluck  a  scalp  from  that  of  foe. 

Spirit !  let  this  thy  sadness  cheat, 

Till,  shadows  both,  again  me  meet."  (16) 


VII. 

Upon  a  mountain  whose  high  peak 
The  very  heavens  seems  to  seek  ; 
Which  rises  on  the  southern  shore. 
And  looks  Superior's  waters  o'er, 
Are  gathering  now  the  few  who  fled 
When  yesterday  so  illy  sped. — 


i 


I; 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Though  the  gray  dawn  of  morn  appeared 
Ere  from  the  cave  their  course  they  steered; 
And  many  a  long  mile  lay  between 
This  place  and  where  the  strife  had  been ; — 
And  though  there  yet  an  hour  doth  lack 
Ere  the  sun  reach  his  mid-way  track ; 
The  gathered  ranks  already  show 
Me-gis-si  and  the  Wendigo. — 
Quickly  they  come  and  silent  meet, 
Without  a  word  or  look  to  greet ; — 
But  each  as  up  the  steep  he  wound, 
Threw  himself  mutely  on  the  ground. 
Till,  of  that  scattered  band,  the  last 
Had  to  his  place  in  silence  passed. 
No  darkly  agitating  trace 
Could  be  discovered  on  the  face 
Of  ardent  youth  or  furro^ved  age 
To  tell  of  passion's  inward  rage ; 
But  every  brow  was  calm  and  stern, 
Whatever  smothered  fires  might  burn. — 
The  Wendigo  to  whom  the  lead, 
As  well  in  council  as  in  deed, 
Had  long  been  given  as  his  due, 
For  wisdom  deep  and  courage  true. 


25 


ill 


26 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


Slowly  arose.    There  was  no  burst 
Of  passion  in  his  words  at  first, 
But  calmly  over  each  event 
That  marked  their  recent  strife,  he  went ; 
And  e'en  his  voice  grew  sadly  mild, 
As  his  words  turned  upon  his  child, 
Whom  the  great  Manitou,  he  said, 
Had  now  restored  as  from  the  dead ; — 
From  which  the  cheering  hope  he  drew, 
Although  their  numbers  might  be  few, 
The  Manitou  was  still  their  friend, 
And  would  not  fail  them  in  the  end, 
A  hallowed  cause  like  theirs  to  bless 
With  signal  and  complete  success. — 
But  when  he  dwelt  upon  the  wrong 
Which  they  had  now  endured  so  long, 
From  the  foul  race  of  Ojibue, — 
And  pointed  to  the  land  that  lay 
Far  as  the  eye  around  could  roam, 
And  told  them  that  was  once  their  home. 
But  home  from  which  they  were  expelled, 
And  now  by  hated  foemen  held ; — 
The  powers  which  in  his  bosom  reigned, 
But  which,  till  then,  he  had  restrained, 


I 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST, 


27 


>i 


Burst  forth,  and  like  heaven's  lightning  glowed, 

While  every  working  feature  showed 

The  fearful  torrent-like  control 

Which  passion  held  within  his  soul. 

Like  fire  when  over  prairie  rushing, — 

Or  torrents  from  a  mountain  gushing, 

The  impulse  of  his  own  was  press'd 

With  light-like  speed  from  breast  to  breast. — 

No  bosom  there  but  was  on  fire; — 

No  heart  which  did  not  glow  with  ire ; — 

And  when  he  ceased,  in  such  dread  yell 

Upon  the  air  their  war-whoop  fell, 

The  wild  beast  from  his  covert  fled. 

The  wild  birds  screamed  above  their  head, 

And  long  when  from  their  lips  it  died. 

It  echoed  down  the  mountain's  side. — 

A  free  discussion  then  arose, 

For  every  warrior  to  propose 

What  to  each  one  might  seem  to  show 

The  best  advantage  o'er  the  foe.— 

At  no  great  distance  to  the  right, 

And  only  hidden  from  their  sight 

By  rocky  bluffs  which  ledge  on  ledge 

Abrupt  rose  from  the  water's  edge. 


^■^ 


1 1 


I   : 


28  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Within  a  large  and  quiet  bay 
A  clustering  group  of  islands  lay. — 
Here  scattered  o'er  the  banks  of  green 
And  shady  groves,  there  might  be  seen 
Many  a  lodge,  whose  bark  so  white  (17) 
Was  sending  back  the  noonday  light. — 
Upon  these  isles  the  Ojibue, 
Since  from  their  homes  they  drove  away 
The  conquered  Sioux,  had  dwelt  secure, 
And  deeming  it  at  once  a  sure 
And  safe  retreat,  had  gathered  all 
Incessant  warfare  did  not  call 
To  deeds,  from  deeds  already  done, 
To  keep  the  land  thus  bravely  won. 
To  this  fair  spot  each  heart  was  turned  ; 
And  every  warrior's  bosom  burned 
To  win  again  those  long  lost  isles, 
And  live  within  their  quiet  smiles. — 
Here  then  each  heart  resolved,  as  soon 
As  reached  to-morrow's  sun  its  noon. 
To  strike  a  blow  should  free  the  land 
From  the  accursed  foeman's  hand  ] 
Or  fighting  till  the  last  was  slain, 
Leave  their  hearts'  blood  upon  the  plain. 


I 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


29 


VIII. 
The  day  that  dawned  upon  the  foe 
Me-gis-si  and  the  Wendigo 
Had  left ;  while  all  uncousoious  rest 
Was  reigning  over  every  breast, 
Awoke  the  encampment's  busy  hum  ; 
And  at  the  sound  of  signal  drum 
The  warriors  gathered  round  their  chief, 
Whose  look  was  stern,  whose  words  were  brief; 
He  waved  his  hand,  and  quick  as  thought 
A  shaft  of  stoutest  oak  was  brought 
And  planted  deeply  in  the  ground  : — 
To  this,  with  winding  thongs  were  bound 
The  captives  whose  unhappy  fate 
Must  gratify  their  captors'  hate. — 
But  where  is  he  who  always  bore 
The  foremost  honors  heretofore  ? — 
And  where  the  noble  captive  he 
Had  led  in  late  won  victory? 
Strange,  that  he  comes  not, — he  whose  hand 
Was  ever  first  to  light  the  brand  ; — 
And  by  whom  were  the  victims  tied, 
None  ever  knew  the  knots  to  slide  ; — 
Me-gis-si,  favorite  of  all, 


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30 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


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Why  comes  he  not  at  chieftain's  call? — 
And  why  lags  he  the  rest  behind  ?— 
These  are  the  questions  rapidly 
From  lip  to  lip  are  heard  to  fly. — 
By  the  Ojibue  'tis  believed 
That  when  a  mortal  hath  received 
A  rigorous  and  lonely  fast, — 
And  days  and  nights  in  watching  passed  ;- 
And  who  hath  long  withdrawn  his  mind 
From  all  communion  with  his  kind, 
And  hath  within  the  forest's  shade, 
His  home  with  Evil  Spirits  made ; — 
Learning  from  them  each  magic  art 
Which  they  to  mortals  can  impart ; — 
And  hath  his  heart  darkly  imbued 
With  all  of  ill  and  naught  of  good ; — 
These  do  a  fearful  power  instil 
Beyond  all  merely  human  skill. 
Freedom  at  wish  the  form  to  change ; — 
The  water,  earth,  or  air  i^  range, — 
And  most  of  all  a  savage  greed 
On  human  flesh  and  blood  to  feed. 
Thus  when  an  hour  or  more  is  sped 
And  yet  no  trace  of  whither  fled, 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

They  doubt  not  that  the  mighty  Sioux 
With  whom  Me-gis-si  had  to  do, 
Was  one  of  these,  and  deem  full  well 
Their  favorite  by  his  magic  fell. 
The  unhallowed  rites  no  longer  wait 
Their  thirst  for  blood  to  satiate ; 
But  with  redoubled  zeal  are  made, 
Because  unwillingly  delayed. 
Nothing  their  vengeance  could  suggest 
To  daunt  the  heart  or  wring  the  breast, 
But  was  prepared  with  savage  art 
In  the  dire  scene  to  bear  a  part. — 
The  fagots  at  the  victims'  feet ; 
The  scourge,  their  naked  flesh  to  beat ; 
The  arrows,  of  the  pine  well  dried, — 
The  bow,  to  hurl  them  in  their  side ; 
And  as  the  flames  around  them  rise. 
Burning  augment  their  agonies. — 
Tortures  like  these  they  do  not  lack. 
The  victim's  outward  sense  to  rack ; — 
But  more  tormenting  far  are  those 
Designed  to  wake  his  inward  throes. — 
The  taunt,  the  gibe, — the  goading  sneer,- 
The  insulting  charge  of  coward  fear ; — 


31 


<i   I 


32 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST, 


r  M 


M- 


III 


Imbecile  strength  the  bow  to  bend, 
And  erring  skill  the  shaft  to  send ; — 
A  soul  which  could  not  look  on  pain, 
And  hands  which  had  no  foeman  slain  ; — 
Limbs  bowed  with  fear  and  not  with  years, — 
And  eyes  which  shone  not  but  with  tears  ; — 
Such  were  the  taunts  upon  them  hurled, 
As  o'er  their  forms  the  hot  blaze  curled. — 
What  sounds  are  those  which  fill  the  air 
Above  all  others  echoing  there  ! 
As  doth  the  cataract's  loud  roar 
The  brook  which  murmurs  at  its  shore ; 
Or  thunders  bursting  through  the  sky, 
The  owlet's  hoarse  and  startled  cry : — 
It  is  the  victims'  death-song  shout, 
Which  bursts  from  their  firm  bosoms  out ; 
Casting  defiance  at  their  foes. 
And  mocking  at  the  torturing  throes 
Their  direful  vengeance  would  bestow. — 
The  hissing  flames  which  round  them  glow 
To  break  their  courage  have  no  power. 
But  fi    n  and  brave  as  in  the  hour 
When  victor V  hath  enwreathed  their  brow, 
The  same  bold  spirit  nerves  them  now. — 


THE  O.TIBUE  CONQUEST. 


33 


The  noble  deeds  they  have  performed, 

And  noble  thoughts  their  hearts  have  warmed ; 

The  sunset  land  so  bright  and  fair, 

Which  waits  to  bid  them  welcome  there ; — 

Such  is  the  burden  of  their  song. 

Which  swells  in  such  proud  notes  along. 

Brave  sons  of  nature !     Ye  need  not, 

To  make  you  at  sucli  moments  what 

Hath  been, — will  be  while  time  succeeds, 

And  hearts  are  tuned  to  noble  deeds, 

The  admiration  of  mankind  ; 

Ye  need  not  in  the  mazes  wind 

Of  the  philosophy  of  schools 

To  teach  you  the  eternal  rules 

Of  fortitude  and  self-control. 

And  all  which  doth  exalt  the  soul. 

Fainter  and  fainter,  yet  still  clear, 

That  death-song  falls  upon  the  ear 

Of  those  who  dance  around  the  fires. 

Where  bravery  such  as  this  expires. 

At  length  each  victim's  voice  is  still. 

And  vengeance  now  hath  drunk  its  fill. 

O  how  revolting  to  the  mind 

By  hallowed  sciences  refined 


mu 

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L  i  ; 

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Itt 


34  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

The  bloody  rites  which  thus  disgrace 
The  savage  and  unlettered  race! 
Till  tamed  of  these,  the  fiercest  beast 

That  roams  the  forest  for  its  prey, 
And  makes  on  blood  and  flesh  its  feast, 

Hath  less  ferocity  then  they.— 
The  fires  are  out,— the  warriors  gone, 
And  Mon-in-gueu-na,  ere  the  sun 
Sinks  to  his  couch  behind  the  West, 
Their  barks  upon  thy  shores  shall  rest. 

IX. 

The  sun  had  set ;— the  clouds  which  fringed 
The  sky  were  gorgeously  tinged 
With  gold  and  purple  and  all  dyes 
Which  make  the  summer  sunset  skies 
So  lovely,  and  whose  rays  impart 
To  every  pure  and  noble  heart 
Such  chastened,  hallowed  thoughts  as  are 
Akin  to  the  soft  light  which  there 
Beams  forth  so  beautiful  and  bright. 
Sweet  herald  of  approaching  night ! — 
O'er  the  calm  waters  of  the  bay, 
Where  the  Ojibues'  island  lay, 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Those  rays  are  glanced  in  many  a  track, 
To  the  bright  clouds  which  send  them  back, 
Beneath  the  waters  where  they  glow, 
Forming  a  mimic  heaven  below. — 
O  !  that  such  hallowed  scenes  as  this 
Should  ever  look  on  aught  but  bliss  ! 
When  the  freed  soul  hath  felt  the  power 
Of  this  enchanting,  soothing  hour, 
To  wipe  out  every  stain  which  care 
Or  sin  hath  left  corroding  there ; 
O  !  why  will  it  again  return, 
To  drink  from  the  polluted  urn 
With  which  vile  pleasures  still  allure 
The  bosoms  thus  once  rendered  pure  ! — 
This  lovely  scene  has  passed  away, 
And  the  last  tints  of  dying  lay 
Are  fading  from  the  Western  skies. 
When  Mon-in-gueu-na,  tliere  arise 
Along  thy  shores  voices  of  wail, 
Whose  accents  through  thy  lovely  vale 
Are  sorrowful  and  plaintive  spread  ; 
It  is  the  wailing  for  the  dead ! —  (18) 
When  the  light  barks  the  rest  that  bore, 
Sped  rapidly  upon  thy  shore, 


36 


r  ;' 


THE  OJIBUE  C0^' QUEST. 


ii 


if 


A  maiden  band  was  there  to  find 

If  brother,  lover  stayed  behind  ; 

And  as  they  found  them  there  or  not, 

With  joy  or  grief  they  left  the  spot ; 

And  now  when  the  faint  twilight  spreads 

Its  ,  >mbre  veil  above  their  heads, 

The  voice  of  mother,  sister,  bride, 

Is  mingled  in  the  plaintive  tide, 

For  those  they  may  not  meet  again. 

Who  sleep  upon  the  battle-plain. 

But  one  was  there  from  whose  distressed 

And  wildly  agitated  breast 

No  wailing  broke  ; — she  could  not  weep ; 

Her  agony  was  all  too  deep  ; 

Me-me,  fair  child  of  light  and  love !  (19) 

Lovely  and  beautiful  above 

All  earthly  power  to  describe ; — 

In  the  soft  language  of  her  tribe  (20) 

She  had  most  fittingly  been  styled 

The  dove ;  so  innocent  and  mild. 

Were  all  that  nature  had  impressed 

Within  her  young,  untutored  breast. 

No  thought  which  was  not  pure  and  good 

Could  in  her  gentle  heart  intrude ; 


ii 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


37 


No  passion  angels  might  not  own 

Had  ever  in  her  dark  eyes  shone ; 

But  all  was  hallowed,  chaste  and  bright 

As  heaven's  own  celestial  light. 

The  form  which  held  that  soul,  no  less 

Was  one  of  passing  loveliness. 

A  child  of  nature, — every  grace 

That  it  could  give,  in  her  had  place ; 

Where  beauty  both  of  form  and  mind 

In  loving  harmony  combined. 

In  such  love's  fountain  must  be  deep. 

When  that  sweet  passion  wakes  from  sleep, 

And  the  heart  trembles  with  the  weight 

Of  passion  which  it  hath  in  freight. 

Such  was  the  love, — so  pure,  so  deep, 

Me-gis-si  from  its  dreamy  sleep 

Had  wakened  never  more  to  rest, 

To  live  within  her  gentle  breast. — 

They  loved  as  mortals  never  should. 

To  stake  the  whole  life  hath  of  good 

Upon  one  cast,  and  see  that  fail ! 

No  human  power  can  then  avail 

To  soothe  the  breaking  heart,  and  bring 

Relief  to  life's  long  suffering. 


i  f  .'I 


38  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

And  thus,  when  he  whose  smiles  could  give 
All  for  which  she  could  wish  to  live 
Came  not, — and  as  she  feared,  no  more 
His  smiles  would  greet  her  as  of  yore, 
An  anguish,  tongue  would  fail  to  tell, 
Then  darkly  o'er  her  sad  heart  fell. — 

There  was  a  sweet  secluded  spot, 

A  gentle  slope  which  slightly  shot 

With  sloping  bank  into  the  bay, 

Where  often  at  the  close  of  day, 

Apart  from  those  whose  noisy  mirth 

Had  in  it  all  too  much  of  earth, 

For  pleasures  of  that  hallowed  kind 

Which  love  had  in  their  hearts  enshrined, 

She  and  Me-gis-si  passed  the  hours 

In  weaving  garlands  of  bright  flowers, 

And  circling  with  love's  trembling  hand 

Around  their  brows  the  fragrant  band ; 

Or  breathing  in  each  other's  ear 

The  tender  words  thev  loved  to  hear  ; 

He  with  a  deep  and  noble  feeling, 

His  passion's  fervent  strength  revealing ; — 

While  she  with  less  of  words  perchance. 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


89 


But  with  a  bright  enrapturing  glance 
From  her  full  eyes,  responsive  turned  ; 
Or,  leaning  fondly  on  his  breast, 
She  sang  the  dying  day  to  rest. 
Now  while,  with  melancholy  swell 
The  dirge  upon  the  night  air  fell, 
She  sought  this  spot,  and  seated  there. 
Upon  her  hands  she  bowed  her  fair 
And  gentle  face,  o'er  which  was  spread 
The  marble  paleness  of  the  dead. 
Ah  !  Me-me,  none  can  ever  know 
The  full  extent  of  that  deep  woe 
Which  wrung  thy  heart,  until  the  hour 
When  they,  like  thee,  have  felt  its  power ! 
While  thus  she  sat,  a  bark  appeared, 
And  to  this  spot  its  swift  course  steered ; 
A  moment,  and  its  prow  was  fast 
Upon  the  shore,  and  from  it  passed 
A  tall  and  noble  form,  who  went 
With  gentle  steps,  and  silent  bent. 
In  saddened  fondness  by  her  side. 
She  saw  him  not,  for  sorrow's  tide 
Had  swept  across  her  heart,  until 
Her  senses  sank  beneath  its  chill. 


V  '1 


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11 


40  THE  OJIRUE  CONQUEST. 

But  when  her  name  he  fondly  spoke, 
She  raised  her  head,  "  Me-gis-si !"  broke 
In  joyful  accents,  as  she  sprung 
And  round  his  neck  in  transport  clung. 
The  sudden  joy  his  presence  brought, 
Upon  her  heart  so  overwrought, 
Her  consciousness  fled  with  the  shock  ; 
And  now  like  ivy  to  the  rock, 
She  lay  in  sweet  unconscious  rest. 
Entwined  around  her  lover's  breast. 
And  when  at  length  her  eyes  unclosed 
To  his,  on  whose  breast  she  reposed, 
The  look  was  all  so  mild  and  sweet. 
With  which  those  eyes  her  lover's  greet, 
As  though  their  light  beamed  from  a  soul 
Into  which  heaven's  sunshine  stole. — 
'^  To  what  a  fearful  weight  of  grief, 
Beloved,  thou  hast  brought  relief;" 
Thus  she  began,  — "  I  ask  not  what 
The  reason  why  thou  earnest  not 
When  others  of  our  tribe  returned. 
From  whom  the  fearful  tale  I  learned 
That  thou  hadst  fallen  beneath  the  art 
Of  one  of  those  of  Icy  heart ; 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


41 


Once  in  the  power  of  whose  dread  spell 

None  e'er  returned  his  fate  to  tell. 

It  is  enough  for  my  glad  lieart 

To  know  that  here  again  thou  art ; 

That  oft  in  this  our  loved  retreat, 

With  gladsome  hearts  we  yet  may  meet ; 

I  to  tell  o'er  and  o'er  to  thee 

How  very  dear  thou  art  to  me, 

And  thou  to  fold  me  to  thy  breast, 

And  say  thou  art  in  that  love  blest. — 

O,  when  we  meet  at  times  like  this, 

It  seems  as  though  the  whole  of  bliss 

Which  ever  in  the  bright  world  shone 

Gathers  in  my  poor  heart  alone ! 

To  gaze  in  fondness  on  thy  brow, 

And  feel  thy  heart  as  I  do  now, 

Beneath  my  own  so  wildly  beat, 

To  hear  thy  words  so  soft  and  sweet ; 

Call  me,  as  oft  they  do,  thy  bride ; 

0,  what  hath  earth  to  give  beside ! 

When  will  the  war-cry  cease  to  grieve 

My  heart,  because  it  bids  thee  leave, 

While  I,  in  anxious  dread,  each  day, 

Come  to  this  lonely  spot  to  pray, 

6 


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42 


Tin:  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


m 

w 


Until  it  seems  my  heart  would  break, 

To  the  Great  Spirit  for  thy  sake. 

Say,  must  thou  yet  again  expose 

Thy  life  among  those  cruel  foes, 

The  fearful  Sioux ; — but         .ove  !  why 

Breaks  from  thy  bosom  that  deep  sigh  ! 

Has  thy  heart  any  care ; — ah,  say, 

And  let  me  kiss  that  care  awav." 

She  said,  and  with  her  fingers  fair, 

She  brushed  away  the  raven  hair 

Which  o'er  his  forehead  clustering  strayed, 

And  then  upon  his  brow  she  laid 

Her  gentle  lips ; — Me-gis-  ^  felt 

His  purpose  falter  as  he        *lt, 

And  for  a  moment  he  forgot 

His  sad  inexorable  lot ; 

So  sweet  the  thrill  that  kiss  had  sent 

Through  his  sad  heart ; — and  when  he  bent 

His  eyes  upon  her  lovely  face, 

And  saw  how  deep  and  pure  the  trace 

Of  trusting  love  in  every  look, 

His  bosom  heaved  and  his  soul  shook 

With  the  intensity  of  pain 

Its  breaking  cords  had  to  su'gtain, 


us, 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

As  rushing  thoughts  again  impress 

The  withering,  bligliting  consciousness 

That  he  no  more  upon  that  smile 

Which  had  such  power  to  beguile, 

Could  in  the  bliss  of  former  days 

Fix  his  full  soul's  adoring  gaze. 

Alas  I  he  knew  the  dream  was  past, 

And  this  fond  look  must  be  his  last. 

He  knew  that  should  those  e3^es  beam  yet 

When  he  was  gone,  as  when  they  met, 

He  could  not,  must  not,  from  their  light, 

Receive,  as  he  had  done,  delight. 

He  knew  if  yet  that  cheek  should  wear 

The  hallowed  smile  which  now  was  there, 

The  thrills  of  rapture  they  impart 

Must  fall  upon  another's  heart. 

"  If  those  eyes  beam  !  if  that  cheek  glow  !" 

Alas  !  he  doth  too  sadly  know 

His  presence  only  can  awake 

Those  smiles  which  beam  but  for  his  sake ; 

That  he  alone  can  give  the  light 

Without  which  they  will  sink  in  night. 

'Twas  this  which  gave  the  deadliest  sting 

To  all  his  soul  was  suffering. 


43 


fjls'^^ 


44 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


f 


I 


If  la  alone  might  meet  the  blow, 

And  his  heart  only  feel  the  woe ; 

If  on  his  own  the  blight  might  rest, 

And  leave  unscathed  her  tender  breast, 

He  could  sustain  the  scathing  stroke. 

And  firmly  meet  it  like  the  oak 

Whose  trunk  lightnings  indeed  might  break, 

But  whose  firm  roots  they  could  not  shake. 

But  that  the  misery  he  knew 

Should  tear  her  heart  asunder  too ; 

0,  that  was  torture  all  too  deep  ! 

He  felt  these  thoughts  in  tumult  sweep 

Across  his  brain. —    And  when  at  length 

A  powerful  effort  called  the  strength 

Into  his  prostrate  heart  again. 

And  he  so  far  o'ercame  its  pain 

As  to  in  broken  words  relate 

The  tale  he  knew  must  seal  their  fate; 

It  was  with  accents  so  subdued, 

In  spite  of  all  his  fortitude, 

As  though,  at  every  word  he  spoke, 

A  cord  within  his  sad  heart  broke. 

"  Ah,  Me-me !  thou  hast  been  and  art 

The  sparkling  dew-drop  of  my  heart. 


II 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


45 


in 


Beneath  whose  brightness  I  have  felt, 
In  that  of  love,  all  feelings  melt. 
0,  'twas  a  rapturous  dream  that  stole 
So  sweetly,  purely  o'er  my  soul ! 
F:it  Me-me,  that  bright  dream  has  fled, 
And  all  our  fondest  hopes  are  dead. — 
O,  what  but  thee  and  this  dear  spot 
Would  I  not  give,  could  I  but  blot 
From  memory  all  that  hath  passed 
Since  in  this  bower  we  parted  last ! 
I've  struggled,  but  it  is  in  vain  ; — 
The  fire  is  in  my  heart  and  brain, 
And  will  not  cease  its  torturing  strife. 
Until  extinguished  with  my  life. 
Thou  knowest  the  totem  I  have  borne 
Is  not  such  as  by  thy  tribe  worn  ; 
That  we,  unknowing  what  its  name. 
Have  often  wondered  how  it  came 
That  I  alone  have  worn  a  crest 
Differing  so  strangely  from  the  rest. — 
'Tis  strange  no  more,  the  battle-field 
The  wonder  hath  at  length  revealed  : 
And  thy  fond  lover  hath  his  sire 
Among  that  foe  whom  thy  tribe's  ire 


*  i3 
ill 

f  !'i 
1  !~; 


I    I'' 


46 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


'fii 


Hath  driven  from  their  native  land, 
A  scattered,  but  unconquered  band. 
Yes,  Me-me,  I  am  one  of  those, — 
Thy  nation's  fiercest,  deadliest  foes  ; 
Whom  but  a  moment  since,  so  true. 
Thou  didst  well  term  the  fearful  Sioux. 
Fearful  they  are,  and  will  be  yet 
To  those  who  shall  their  path  beset. — 
Thou  knowest  between  this  tribe  of  thine. 
And  that  which  henceforth  must  be  mine, 
Exists  a  hatred  strong  as  death  ; 
Resigned  not  even  with  their  breath : 
Judge  then  if  they  could  e'er  abide 
To  see  the  Dove  the  Eagle's  bride. 
Alas  !  Me-me,  it  may  not  be ; 
And  were  it  not,  my  love,  for  thee, 
I  could  rejoice  that  my  firm  nerve 
To  direful  vengeance  yet  might  serve 
For  her  whose  soft  and  gentle  lays 
Were  carolled  to  my  infant  days  ; 
But  whom  the  Ojibue  beguiled. 
And  robbed  at  once  of  life  and  child. 
And  I  have  sworn  my  soul  to  give 
To  retribution  while  I  live. 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

But  short  the  moments  which  remain, 
Before  that  vow  will  be  in  vain. 
To-morrow's  sun  shall  see  its  beam 
Flashed  back  in  many  a  war-knife's  gleam, 
And  yonder  waters  on  whose  breast 
The  moonbeams  now  so  sweetly  rest, 
Shall  drink,  before  the  day  shall  close, 
The  mingled  blood  of  warring  foes  ; 
And  I  shall  be  amidst  the  strife. 
But  not  as  erst  against  the  life 
Of  sire  and  kindred  warriors, — no  ! 
My  arm  must  find  more  fitting  foe. — 
Something  forewarns  me  that  my  blood 
Shall  mingle  with  to-morrow's  flood  ; 
I  feel  it  now  within  my  heart ; 
To-night  for  the  last  time  we  part ; 
And  yonder  stars  which  shine  so  bright, 
When  they  come  out  another  night, 
Will  look  upon  my  bleeding  form 
No  longer  with  life's  pulses  warm ; 
And  that  brow  cold  and  damp  in  death, 
So  lately  hallowed  by  thy  breath. — 
But  let  it  come !     Why  should  I  live, 
When  life  hath  nothing  now  to  give 


47 


I  i 


!iUl 


ifi 


'1 


1 : 


n  f 


48  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

But  blighted  hopes  and  vain  regrets, 

And  every  lingering  sun  that  sets 

Adds  only  to  the  bitter  store 

With  which  the  heart  was  charged  before. 

Yet,  0  how  happy  ! — were  it  not 

That  this  inexorable  lot 

Hath  interposed  its  withering  blight 

Between  my  heart  and  all  that's  bright ; 

How  happy  to  observe  each  day 

Beneath  thy  sweet  smiles  pass  away  ; — 

To  feel  thy  warm  breath  on  my  cheek  ; — 

To  see  thee,  love  thee,  hear  thee  speak. 

And  shield  thy  tender  heart  from  all 

Which  on  it  might  coo  rudely  fall ; — 

Bright  picture  of  our  former  days ; 

But  one  on  which  I  must  not  gaze. 

I've  braved  both  friend's  and  foeman's  power 

For  the  enjoyment  of  this  hour  ; 

To  bathe  my  soul  once  more  in  light. 

Ere  it  sinks  into  endless  night." — 

He  paused  and  closer  to  his  breast 

The  maiden's  form  he  wildly  pressed, 

As  if  that  pressure  could  keep  under 

A  heart  which  else  would  burst  asunder. 


THE  OJinUE  CONQUEST. 


49 


And  there  they  stood,  that  hapless  pair, 
The  victim  each  of  mute  despair; 
Yet  how  exalted,  noble,  pure, 
The  anguish  which  their  souls  endure  ! 
When  mortal  bosoms  swell  like  this, 
With  feelings  boundless,  fathomless. 
There's  something  so  immortal  there, 
That  e'en  though  springing  from  despair, 
The  heart  would  scarce  desire  repose, 
If  purchased  at  the  life  of  those. — 
As  thus  her  lover's  words  conveyed 
The  destiny  that  o'er  them  weighed ; 
And  when  at  length  she  knew  the  worst, 
And  the  full  truth  upon  her  burst, 
A  pang  shot  through  her  heart  and  brain  ; 
But  one, — and  all  was  still  again ; 
But  with  that  pang  had  fled  all  sense 
Of  joy  or  pain,  forever  hence. 
'Twas  so  intense,  no  other  grief 
Could  wake  a  throb,  however  brief; 
And  then  a  holy  calmness  came, 
Succeeding  to  the  passion's  flame 
Which  had  so  brightly  till  that  hour 
Maintained  within  her  breast  its  power. 


11 


50 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


i 


It  was  a  calmness  which  had  birth 

In  the  conviction  that  the  earth, 

With  all  its  pleasure,  all  its  sweet. 

Had  nothing  which  could  ever  cheat. 

Even  for  one  brief  moment's  flight, 

The  sadness  of  her  bosom's  blight. — 

From  his  embrace  she  raised  her  head, 

Drooping  like  lily  o'er  its  bed. 

And  gently  loosed  her  from  the  clasp 

Convulsive  of  Me-gis-si's  grasp, 

And  spake,  with  look  so  sweet  and  mild, 

It  might  almost  be  said  she  smiled  ; 

But  such  a  smile  as  one  might  trace 

Upon  the  cold  and  marble  face 

Of  one  whose  spirit  had  just  riven 

The  bars  which  bound  its  flight  to  heaven. 

"  Me-gis-si,  0  how  gladly  I 

Would  lay  this  body  down  to  die 

Could  it  but  bring  again  to  thine 

The  joy  which  can  no  more  be  mine ! 

Let  not  thy  Me-me's  broken  heart 

One  sorrow  to  thine  own  impart; 

But  go,  forget  that  ever  we 

Have  loved  so  true,  so  tristfuUy. 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


61 


Thy  duty  calls,  then  be  it  so  ; 

And  let  no  thought  of  me  e'er  throw 

Across  thy  breast  a  single  cloud, 

The  sunshine  of  its  peace  to  shroud. 

What  though  this  fate  shall  blight  my  powers, 

Like  early  frosts  the  gladsome  flowers, 

And  my  poor  body  find  its  rest 

Full  soon  upon  the  earth's  cold  breast : 

My  spirit  still  shall  hover  near  ; 

And  this  its  only  thought,  to  cheer 

And  pour  most  fondly  into  thine 

The  light  which  in  Usel.f  shall  shine.— 

Yes,  go— forget  that  v/e  have  met ; 

Or  if  thou  canst  not  all  forget, 

Think  of  it  as  a  dream  which  stole. 

In  night's  calm  hours,  into  thy  soul ; 

Whose  memory  perchance  may  cling 

Around  thy  softened  heart,  and  fling 

A  shadf.  of  sadness  which  you  may 

Not  altogether  chase  away, 

But  which  thou  shouldst  not  let  control 

The  strength  or  bravery  of  thy  soul. 

No,  if  thou  canst  not  banish  all. 

And  memory  will  at  times  recall 


52 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


i 


|i  Is 


The  gladsome  hours  our  hearts  have  known, 
Thrilled  by  each  other's  look  and  tone, 
Then  let  thy  fond  thoughts  only  dwell 
On  this, — thy  Me-me  loved  thee  well ; 
And  only  look  on  those  sweet  hours 
As  thou  wouldst  look  on  lovely  flowers. 
From  which  the  freshness  might  be  fled, 
But  which,  though  withered,  yet  would  shed 
Their  fragrance,  sweet  as  when  their  hue 
Was  heightened  by  the  night's  soft  dew. — 
O  let  me  deem  that  thus  thy  heart 
Will  look  on  me,  and  I  can  part 
With  one  less  pang  from  all  these  bright 
And  happy  dreams  which  take  their  flight ; 
Till,  on  the  far-off"  Spirit  shore 
We  meet  again  to  part  no  more." — 


!it 


0  love !  how  hallowed,  noble,  pure, 
The  feelings  which  thou  dost  secure 
Unto  the  breast  where  thou  dost  deign 
To  institute  thy  perfect  reign  ! 
When  touched  by  thee,  how  all  the  dross 
Of  earthly  passions,  which  so  toss 
And  heave  their  billows  o'er  the  soul. 


II!) 


I  ■* 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


58 


Before  it  hath  felt  thy  control, 

By  thy  stern  alchemy  expelled, 

Yield  up  the  places  they  have  held, 

And  all  that  finds  acceptance  there 

Is  hallowed  as  the  breath  of  prayer  ! 

And  Me-me,  though  despair's  cold  breath 

Had  sent  the  icy  chill  of  death 

Over  her  bosom's  tender  chords. 

Yet,  even  then,  her  love  found  words 

She  fondly  hoped  might  interpose 

A  power  to  soothe  her  lover's  woes. 

But  vain  ;— the  love  that  thus  could  make 

Such  sacrifices  for  his  sake, 

Had  kindled  in  liis  heart  the  same 

Self-sacrificing  generous  flame ; 

And  when  his  quick  sense  caught  this  new 

And  last  fond  proof  of  love  so  true, 

And  saw  and  felt  himself  how  much 

The  purpose  cost  which  made  it  such ; 

And  gazed  upon  her  standing  there 

So  droopingly,  and  yet  so  ftiir  : — 

It  was  too  much, — he  could  not  brook 

That  loving,  yet  heart-stricken  look. 

He  wildly  caught  her  up  and  pressed 


1  ': 


M 


64  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

The  blighted  lily  to  his  breast ; 
And  for  a  moment  yielded  all 
His  heart  and  soul  to  love's  fond  thrall ; 
Resolved  to  brave  scorn,  torture,  death, 
To  keep  that  gentle  lieart  from  scath. — 
Fond  dreamer,  up !  away  !  away  ! 
Death  and  dishonor  if  you  stay, — 
But  death  and  honor  if  you  go ; — 
Away  !     To  meet  your  country's  foe  ! 
A  moment  and  he  felt  it  true  ; 
No  word  broke  forth  to  say  adieu, 
But  one  long  burning  kiss  he  gave 
Upon  that  brow  he  could  not  save; 
Then  turned  and  wildly  rushed  again. 
With  wildered  sense  and  maddened  brain, 
To  where  his  light  bark  floating  lay, 
And  o'er  the  waters  shot  his  way. 


X. 

'Tis  noon  again, — the  sun's  warm  beam  (21) 
Is  glancing  brightly  o'er  the  stream 
Which  with  a  current  calm  and  slow 
Bears  on  its  breast  the  stealthy  foe 
Within  their  light  barks  noiselessly ; 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST.  55 

Who  now  have  paused  a  moment  by 

Its  entrance  to  the  crystal  bay, 

Opposed  to  where  the  islands  lay. 

A  few  brief  words  to  nerve  their  breast 

The  Wendigo  to  each  addressed  ; 

With  promises  of  bravery's  meed 

Should  they  in  that  day's  strife  succeed, 

And  meed  to  warrior's  heart  more  sweet,  (22) 

Which  in  the  Spirit  land  would  greet 

Their  souls,  should  death  their  path  beset, 

And  when  it  came,  be  bravely  met. — 

These  said, — his  bark  whose  prow  displayed 

A  feathery  pennon's  varying  shade, 

Shot  from  among  the  rest,  and  led 

The  way  around  a  woodland  head. 

Which  had  the  bay  and  isles  concealed ; 

And  now  before  them  lay  revealed 

The  scenes  whose  vision  fired  their  will 

To  win  them  back  by  force  or  skill ; 

And  where  so  soon  they  must  decide 

If  once  again  they  shall  abide 

Within  their  quiet  spell,  or  whether 

They  and  this  last  hope  die  together. — 

As  the  last  bark  in  that  array 


1^ 


i^ 


if 


^^ 


ll: 


t    I 


56  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

Came  out  upon  the  open  bay, 

And  caught  the  view,  a  moment's  pause 

Ran  through  the  whole,  while  each  one  draws 

A  deeper  breath,  and  drops  a  prayer 

For  the  Great  Spirit's  guardian  care ; 

Then  with  a  shout  of  curses  dread 

To  fall  upon  the  foeman's  head, 

By  theiT*  strong  arms,  each  light  bark  there 

Sped  onwards  like  a  thing  of  air ; 

And  should  no  foeman  check  their  speed, 

Short  were  the  moments  that  they  need 

Ere  they  shal'  rest  their  glancing  oar 

Upon  the  nearest  island's  shore, 

Where  o'er  the  green  and  shady  strand 

The  lodges  of  Ojibue  stand. 

Beneath  whose  bark-made  folds  repose, 

Unconscious  of  approaching  foes, 

The  chiefs  and  warriors, — but  wdth  spear 

And  bow  and  war-club  lying  near  ; 

Ready  upon  the  first  alarm 

To  be  resumed  with  sturdy  arm. 

The  foremost  of  tb^  bar^         ^^    low 

Almost  upon  th^'  ^ttm  , 

When  sudden  '         Uie       ju,d  rang 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


67 


The  war-cry's  blast,  and  with  it  sprang 
Each  warrior  there  upon  his  feet, 
With  answering  shout,  and  rushed  to  meet 
In  strife  too  wild  and  dark  for  name, 
The  foe  that  thus  upon  them  came. 
Then  grappled  each  his  nearest  foe, 
Nor  yielded  either,  till  the  blow 
Which  drank  life's  latest  current  well, 
Left  him  all  lifeless  where  he  fell. 
But  vain  the  strife, — though  for  each  Sioux 
There  perished  of  his  foemen  two ; 
There  lived  but  two  of  that  brave  band 
Against  the  opposing  host  to  stand  ; 
Men-gis-si  and  the  Wendigo, 
Around  whom  fell  at  every  blow 
Victims,  to  their  resistless  strength. 
Had  fought  their  bloody  way  at  length 
Upon  the  beach,  and  there  they  stood 
Alone,  unconquered,  unsubdued ; 
Keeping,  like  lions  fierce,  at  bay, 
Surrounding  foemen's  whole  array  ; 
Or,  those  who  were  upon  them  rushing. 
In  ghastly  heaps  around  them  crushing. 

Maddened  to  see  the  slaughtering  tide, 

8 


il 


i  i 


m 


58  THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 

And  feel  their  power  thus  defied ; 

Shame  to  their  courage  adding  wing, 

The  Ojibues  upon  them  spring 

Like  famished  wolves  upon  the  prey 

That  chance  hath  thrown  within  their  way, 

And  sire  and  son  are  borne  beneath  ; 

Their  flesh  an  hundred  weapons  sheath. 

And  when  the  rushing  crowd  gave  place, 

Within  Me-gis-si's  breast  all  trace 

Of  life,  with  all  its  pains,  had  fled  ; 

Mangled  he  lay  among  the  dead. 

But  from  beneath  their  raining  blows 

The  Wendigo  again  arose 

And  dashing  off"  as  things  of  naught 

Those  who  to  stop  his  progress  sought, 

One  thrilling  yell  of  scorn  he  gave, 

Then  plunged  beneath  the  blood-dyed  wave.- 

They  saw  no  more  ;  and  whether  then 

His  spirit  passed,  or  if  again, 

Concealed  by  magic  from  their  view, 

He,  living  rose,  none  ever  knew. 

Still  they  believe  amid  the  dirge 

Of  winter's  wind  and  water's  sur-e, 

Or  in  the  tempest's  blasting  hour. 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST.  59 

They  hear  his  voice  and  feel  his  ppwer; — 

And  even  upon  summer's  night, 

When  winds  are  hushed  and  stars  are  bright, 

They  sometimes  see  his  shadow  pass 

Slowly  along  the  moonlit  grass  ; 

And  then  with  premonition  tell 

Of  some  mischance,  they  know  full  well 

To  fall  on  whom  the  spirit's  eye 

Glanced  angrily  as  it  passed  by. 

XL 

The  eve  that  gathered  o'er  the  water 
Yet  crimson  with  the  recent  slaughter, 
Came  slowly,  beautifully  on  ; 
And  when  the  last  faint  hues  were  gone. 
Shadowed  in  the  embrace  of  night, 
The  moon  and  stars  looked  down  as  bright 
As  though  no  scenes  of  carnage  lay 
Where  now  their  beams  so  sweetly  play. — 
Chance  led  at  twilight's  peaceful  hour 
A  band  of  maidens  to  the  bower 
Where  Me-me  and  her  lover  parted, 
The  night  before,  so  broken-hearted  ; 
And  there,  upon  a  mossy  bed, 


I 


I 


60 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


m 


Lay  Me-me,  silent,  cold  and  dead. 

With  the  last  look  on  lover  cast, 

Her  gentle  spirit  sweetly  passed  ; 

And  now  she  lay  in  cold  death  slec^  ing, 

Their  watch  the  wild  flowers  o'er  her  keeping; 

And  as  they  waved  with  the  soft  sigh 

Of  the  night  zephyrs  passing  hy, 

Wept  dewy  tears  o'er  one  so  fair. 

Lying  like  blighted  rose-bud  there ; 

And  poured  the  fragrance  of  their  breath 

To  hallow  such  a  tristful  death. 

When  first  beheld,  the  maidens  deemed, 

'Mid  flowers  and  moonbeams  light  she  dreamed ; 

But  when  they  gathered  near  and  felt, 

As  by  her  side  they  fondly  knelt, 

That  death's  rude  fingers  had  impressed 

Their  icy  touch  upon  her  breast ; 

Stilling  each  throb  of  bliss  or  pain 

Beyond  the  power  to  beat  again ; 

A  wailing  low,  like  sighing  tone 

Of  winds  when  through  the  trees  they  moan, 

While  all  around  beside  was  hushed, 

From  their  full  bosoms  sadly  gushed. 

*'  Heart  of  our  hearts,  farewell,  farewell  I" 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


61 


^ng; 


ned; 


n. 


Thus  rose  the  dirge's  plaintive  swell, 

"  Thou  wast  the  sunbeam,  spirit  given, 

But  softened  like  the  light  of  even, 

Within  our  darkened  bosoms  stealing, 

That  kissed  the  buds  of  happy  feeling, 

And  in  the  fragrant  breath  and  hue 

Of  sweetest  love,  to  flowers  drew. 

O  what  shall  keep  that  hue  so  fair ! 

O  what  shall  keep  their  fragrance  there  ! 

Their  warmth  and  light  with  thee  withdrawn, 

Their  hue  is  fled,  their  fragrance  gone ; 

We  wither  where  our  sister  fell ; 

Heart  of  our  hearts,  farewell,  farewell!" 

Ere  the  sad  tones  had  left  the  ear, 

An  airy  spirit,  hovering  near. 

Caught  up  again  the  lingering  strains. 

And  in  such  music  as  enchains 

The  raptured  heart  in  childhood  dreams, 

When  in  some  fairy  land  it  deems 

Mid  bright  ethereal  forms  it  dwells, 

The  requiem  around  them  swells. 

"  There's  a  bower  prepared  in  the  land  of  the  blest, 
Where  the  young  and  the  pure  and  the  lovely  shall 
rest. 


I 


I. 

«1 


TRI: 


Ml 


62 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


Who  have  left  the  sad  earth  where  the  tempests  that 

rushed 
O'er  their  sensitive  bosoms  forever  aie  hushed. 

*'  0  tlie  heart  of  the  dead  beat  too  brightly  for  earth ! 
Like  a  bird  in  the  far  sunny  South  that  had  birth, 
But  which  ^vandered  when  winds  from  the  Northern 

sky  passed, 
Where  it  sang  one  sweet  strain  and  then  sank  in  the 

blast. 

*'  So  the  soul  that  once  dwelt  in  that  ftiir  form  of  clay, 
Over  which  you  now  weep  that  it  thus  passed  away. 
Like  that  bird  hovered  near  you,  then  went  to  its  rest, 
In  the  sweet  Spirit  home,  in  the  land  of  the  West. 

"  Weep  not  that  her  spirit  thus  early  hath  fled  ; 
That  spirit  still  lives  though  the  body  be  dead  ; 
It  lives  where  its  joys  pass  no  more  with  a  sigh  ; 
It  livt'S  where  its  happiness  never  shall  die." 


Note  1. 

There  must  ever  be  a  peculiar  iuterest  attached  to  the  Saint 
Lou. '  River,  arising  from  the  consideration  that  it  is  the  proper 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


63 


the 


faint 
)per 


source  of  that  mighty  chain  of  waters  which,  after  pouring 
their  tide  through  more  than  half  the  extent  of  the  Western 
Hemisphere,  at  last  discharge  themselves  into  the  Gulf  of  Saint 
Lawrence,  where  they  mingle  with  and  are  lost  in  those  of  the 
Atlantic.  But  if  it  had  not  this  circumstance  to  draw  an  in- 
terest around  it,  the  character  of  the  river  itself  is  such  as  to 
leave  an  impression  upon  the  mind  of  one  who  has  floated  upon 
its  pure  waters  not  easily  to  be  effaced.  The  variety  and  beauty 
of  the  scenery  whicli  meets  the  eye  of  the  voyager  as  he  enters 
it  at  the  extreme  western  point  of  Lake  Superior,  and  follows 
it  up  through  its  various  windings — now  widening  its  surface 
until  it  may  almost  be  called  a  lake,  and  but  a  little  farther 
dashing  with  inconceivable  fury  through  some  narrow  and 
rocky  pass,  or  over  falls  from  whose  height  the  beholder  be- 
comes dizzy  in  looking  down,  make  the  voyage  one  of  continued 
excitement  and  delight. 

Note  2. — "From  the  dawn,"  etc. 

The  power  of  the  Northern  Indians  to  endure  this  kind  of 
fatigue  has  been  the  admiration  and  remark  of  all  who  have 
travelled  among  them.  J  was  myself  witness  to  many  ex- 
hibitions of  this  capacity  which  would  appear  incredible  to  one 
unacquainted  with  their  habits.  During  my  winter  voyaging 
in  their  country,  my  route  lay  mostly  over  the  ice  either  of  the 
lakes  which  abound  there  to  a  great  extent  or  along  the  streams 
which  connect  them.  Our  usual  time  of  starting  in  the  morn- 
ing was  at  day-dawn,  frequently  before,  and  from  that  time 
imtil  sunset  my  guides  would  run  before  the  horse  which  drew 


64 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


my  cariole,  a  distance  of  some  forty  miles,  with  scarce  an  in- 
termission, and  at  night,  before  our  blazing  camp-fire,  present 
a  perfect  personification  of  cheerfulness. 

Note  3. — "  Each  warrior  there  was  decked,"  etc. 

There  is  no  time  in  which  an  Indian  brave  adorns  his  per- 
son with  so  much  care  as  when  going  to  war.  He  then  lays 
aside  the  encumbering  articles  of  dress  worn  at  other  times, 
and  only  wears  those  light  and  often  extremely  graceful  orna- 
ments which,  without  confining  in  t^ie  least  the  free  and  easy 
motion  of  every  limb,  exhibit  their  fine  forms  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. 

Note  4. — "P>om  feathers,"  etc. 

This  is  a  kind  of  flag  made  use  of  by  the  Indians,  except 
in  some  cases  where  they  have  received  the  American  or  British 
colors.  There  is  a  beauty  and  wildness  about  its  appearance 
which  correspond  well  with  the  nature  of  the  people  who  make 
use  of  it. 

Note  5 "  Amid  the  sound,"  etc. 

The  drum  is  the  only  instrument  of  music  (if  I  except  a 
kind  of  rattle-box  made  use  of  in  their  incantations)  which  I 
found  in  use  among  them.  This  is  used  on  all  occasions,  and, 
though  very  unmusical  to  an  ear  accustomed  to  the  music  of  the 
civilized  world,  is  held  in  great  estimation  by  the  Indians.  It 
is  made  by  tightly  stretching  a  piece  of  untanned  deer's  hide 
over  a  hoop,  and  somewhat  resembles  our  tambourine. 


\f'\ 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


65 


Note  G. — "The  feats  of  bravery,"  etc. 

The  public  dances  are  the  only  occasions  in  which  it  is 
allowed  to  an  Indian  brave,  according  to  their  ideas  of  pro- 
priety, to  boast  of  his  exploits  in  battle.  But  at  these  times 
they  make  ample  amends  for  the  restraint  imposed  upon  them. 
On  sucli  occasions  I  have  listened  to  their  bold  and  graphic  de- 
scriptions until  my  own  breast  would  irresistibly  catch  the  pas- 
sionate feelings  of  theirs. 

NoTK  7. — "Could  tear  those  shackles,"  etc. 

I  would  not  like  to  hazard  the  assertion,  in  this  enlightened 
age,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  magic  or  supernatural  agency 
among  the  Indians  ;  but  I  confess  myself  unable,  as  all  have 
done  who  have  witnessed  these  exhibitions,  to  account  for  them 
satisfactorily.  One  of  those  Indians  who  pretends  to  an  inter- 
course with  Spirits  will  allow  himself  to  be  bound  hand  and 
foot;  then  wrapped  in  a  blanket  or  deer's  hide,  bound  round 
his  whole  body  with  cords  and  thongs  as  long  and  tightly  as 
the  incredulity  of  anyone  present  may  see  fit  to  continue  the 
ojjeration  ;  after  which  he  is  thrown  into  a  small  lodge,  just 
large  enough  to  receive  him,  and  prepared  for  the  occasion. 
Upon  being  put  into  this  lodge,  he  begins  a  low,  unintelligible 
incantation,  which  increases  in  rapidity  and  loudness  until,  in 
three  or  four  minutes,  he  seems  to  have  wrought  himself  into  a 
frenzy  ;  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  opens  the  lodge  and  throws 
out  the  thongs  and  hides  with  which  he  was  bound,  without  a 
single  knot  untied  or  fold  displaced — himself  sitting  calm  and 

free  on  the  ground.     Carver,  in  his  travels,  gives  a  curious  and 

9 


I 


^T- 


(36 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


interesting  account  of  an  exhibition  of  tliis  nature.  Those  who 
profess  this  art  pretend  that  a  Spirit  cotnes  and  relieves  tliem 
from  their  bonds. 


Note  8.— "The  Wendigo  of  Icy  Heart,"  etc. 

By  the  term  Wendigo,  an  Indian  understands  a  giant  or 
large  supernatural  being,  who  roams  about  the  earth  for  victims 
to  his  ferocity.  They  believe  that  men  have  the  power,  by  cer- 
tain mysterious  processes  and  ceremonies,  to  transform  them- 
selves into  these  beings.  They  are  represented  as  tall  as  the 
clouds,  and  using  a  pine  tree  for  a  war-club,  being,  according 
to  belief,  filled  with  Ice  where  the  vital  parts  of  man  are  found  ; 
and  it  is  thought  that  they  can  only  be  killed  with  an  ice-cutter 
(a  long,  iron-pointed  instrument),  and  some  of  the  Indians  pre- 
tend to  have  killed  them  in  this  way.  They  are  considered 
natural  enemies  of  the  human  race,  and,  consequently,  lawful 
to  be  killed  by  anyone  who  can  accomplish  the  feat.  I  knew 
the  case  of  an  Indian  woman  who  took  this  method  to  revenge 
herself  for  the  death  of  a  relative.  An  Indian  having  killed 
one  of  her  kinsmen  under  the  pretense  that  he  was  about  to 
transform  himself  into  a  Wendigo,  she  took  a  gun  and  shot 
him. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  there  is  a  fine  moral  concealed  under 
the  idea  of  the  icy  heart,  expressive  of  that  want  of  sympathy 
and  feeling  which  attends  certain  pursuits  and  characters.  I 
found  among  them  some  very  beautiful  instances  of  this  use  of 
the  allegory. 


THE  0 JIB  UK  CONQUEST. 


67 


Note  9. — "  Are  you  brave,"  etc. 

Tliis  is  an  expression  made  use  of  by  the  Indians  when  thoy 
wish  to  engage  another  in  any  enterprise  that  recjuires  the  ex- 
ercise of  this  attribute  of  the  mind.  It  is  used  as  a  chaUeuge 
when  one  Indian  has  ofTcnded  another.  The  oiieuded  party 
goes  to  the  lod^e  of  his  adversary  and  inquires,  "Are  you 
brave?"  If  he  answers  in  the  affirmative,  an  appeal  is  imme- 
diately made  to  their  relative  prowess.  If  he  does  not  so  an- 
swer, he  is  branded  as  an  old  woman.  An  instance  occurred  at 
Lac  Sangsue  the  winter  I  spent  in  their  country.  As  not  un- 
frequently  happens,  they  were  famisliing  for  want  of  anything 
on  wliich  to  subsist,  and  one  of  them  one  day  went  to  the 
lodge  of  another  and  put  the  laconic  question:  "Are  you 
brave?"  The  one  addressed  being  one  of  the  bravest  of  the 
tribe,  but  not  knowing  the  object  of  the  other,  replied  that  he 
had  been  in  many  situations  of  peril,  and  his  bravery  had  never 
been  doubted.  The  visitor  repeated  the  question,  and,  being 
answered  as  before,  he  repeated  it  the  third  time,  when  the 
other,  beginning  to  lose  his  patience,  replied:  "lam."  He 
then  made  known  the  '^bject  of  his  visit,  which  was  to  kill  one 
of  their  children  for  food,  to  be  decided  by  lot.  To  this  the 
other  gave  a  decided  refusal,  and  the  first  finally  entered  into 
aa  agreement  to  kill  his  nephew,  a  lad  of  some  fourteen  years 
of  age.  By  a  strange  chance  the  boy  had  overheard  the  con- 
versation, and,  having  prepared  himself  with  a  gun,  when  his 
uncle  came  from  the  lodge  he  shot  him  dead.  The  mother  of 
the  man  and  grandmother  of  the  boy,  upon  learning  what  had 


68 


THE  ojinuE  Conquest. 


liappened,  took  an  axe  and  killed  the  boy,  agreeable  to  their 
rules  (if  punishment  or  revenge,  which  imposes  upon  the  nearest 
relative  of  the  injured  party  the  task  of  retribution. 

Note  10. — "  Apuckways  from  soft  rushes  wove,"  etc. 

The  apuckway  is  a  knid  of  mat  woven  with  skill  from  a 
large  nish,  which  grows  in  great  quantities  on  the  marshy 
shores  of  many  of  the  Northern  lakes.  These  mats  are  some- 
times used  as  outside  coverings  for  their  lodges,  but  usually  are 
spread  thickly  upon  the  ground  inside,  furnishing  a  neat  and 
soft  material  on  which  to  lounge  during  the  day  and  repose  at 
night. 

Note  11. —  "Stood  like  an  oak  the  Thunderbird 
Had  riven  at  the  Spirit's  word,"  etc. 

The  Indians  believe  that  thunder  is  caused  by  a  very  large 
bird,  which  lives  so  far  up  in  the  sky  as  not  to  be  visible.  The 
noise  is  caused  by  the  motion  of  its  wings.  This  idea,  no 
doubt,  they  received  from  the  pheasant,  the  drumming  of 
which  so  nearly  resembles  distant  thunder.  The  lightning, 
they  imagine,  is  the  effect  of  the  opening  and  shutting  of  the 
bird's  eyes,  and  its  glances  are  sometimes  so  powerful  as  to  set 
objects  on  fire.  This  happens  when  lightning  strikes  a  body, 
accompanied  by  ignition.  Whenever  the  lightning  strikes  an 
object,  they  think  that  the  bird  discharges  from  its  eye  a  small 
round  stone,  which  causes  the  effect  ;  and  they  say  that  if  you 
will  examine  where  the  lightning  enters  the  ground,  this  stone 
may  always  be  discovered. 


THE  OJIBUE  COS qU EST. 


69 


Note  12. — "Where  wander  Shadows  of  the  dead 
By  the  dim  light  auroras  shed,"  etc. 

The  Indians,  unable  to  account  for  the  various  phenomena 
of  nature,  with  most  of  them  have  some  curious  superstition  in- 
terwoven. The  Aurora  Borealis,  they  believe,  is  made  to  illu- 
minate the  pastimes  of  the  disembodied  spirits.  When  in  the 
shadowy  land,  tliey  gather  in  the  chase,  or  mingle  in  the  dances 
with  which  they  amuse  themselves  in  this. 

NoTK  13. — "  Our  totem  on  our  little  bov,"  etc. 

Each  family  is  distinguished  !>y  some  peculiar  badge  or 
emblem,  such  as  the  bear,  the  swan,  tlie  snake,  the  eagle,  etc. 
To  these  are  given  the  name  of  totem.  The  laws  relating  to  them 
are  somewhat  curious.  It  is  not  permitted  a  male  and  female 
whose  totem  happens  to  be  the  same  to  intermarry.  They  are 
considered  as  brother  and  sister.  And  in  adopting  or  inherit- 
ing their  totem,  among  their  children,  the  boys  assume  that  of 
the  father  and  the  girls  that  of  the  mother. 

Note  H. — "  Sweet  as  the  swan's  expiring  notes,"  etc. 

I  am  aware  that  in  this  line  I  am  using  a  very  old  comparison, 
yet  I  could  not  but  think  it  appropriate,  as  the  country  where 
the  scene  is  laid  abounds,  perhaps  to  a  greater  extent  than  any 
other  part  of  the  world,  in  this  most  graceful  of  birds  wliich 
sw^im  the  water.  About  Lac  Sangsue  and  some  other  of  the 
Northern  lakes  they  are  so  numerous  that  in  the  portion  of  the 
year  when  they  are  taken  the  most  easily  they  furnish  the 
almost  exclusive  food  of  tiie  natives. 


!if 


70 


THE  0,11  BUE  CONQUEST. 


Note  15.-   ''Thou  shadowy  spirit  !  for  whose  sake,"  etc. 

Like  eveiy  unenlightened  people,  the  Indians  are  extremely 
superstitious.  Among  their  superstitions  is  a  belief  in  the  visits 
of  the  spirits  of  the  dead  ;  not  often  so  as  to  be  visible  in  a 
naturally  embodied  form,  but  heard  in  various  sounds,  as  the 
sighing  of  the  winds,  ihe  stirring  of  the  forest  leaves,  or  fancied 
in  the  fleecy  clouds  of  an  evening  sky. 

Note  16.  —  "Till,  shadows  both,  again  we  meet,"  etc. 

Considering  the  mental  and  moral  darkness  that  i)revail8 
among  them,  I  found  occasionally  surprisingly  clear  ideas  of  the 
inunateriality  of  the  soul.  This  they  represent  in  the  idea  of  a 
shadow.  The  explanation  which  one  of  them  gave  of  the  reason 
why  they  buried  the  hunting-implements,  goods,  etc.,  with  the 
bodies  of  their  dead  is  so  ingenious  that  I  cannot  help  relating  it. 
lie  was  asked  why  they  did  this,  as  the  dead  could  not  make 
use  of  them,  which  was  proved  by  the  fact  that  on  »pening  the 
grave  at  any  time  afterwards  all  these  things  were  found  just 
as  they  had  been  placed  at  first.  He  answered  that,  as  it  was 
only  the  shadow  (^Spirit)  of  the  man  which  went  to  the  Great 
West,  his  body  or  substance  remiiining  in  the  grave,  so  it  is  the 
shadow  of  these  substances  deposited  with  him  which  accom- 
pany him,  and  of  which  he  makes  use  on  his  journey,  being  of 
the  same  service  to  tiie  shadow  of  the  man  there  that  the  sub- 
stance was  to  the  living  body  while  here. 

I  had  long  known  the  existence  of  this  custom  at  their  burials, 
and  had  regarded  it  as  a  kind  of  unmeaning  ceremony  ;  but  this 
explanation  surprised  me  with  its  ingenuity  and  its  beauty. 


,  ii 


I; 


THE  O.JTBUE  COy QUEST. 


71 


Note  17. — "Many  a  lodge,  whose  bark  so  white,"  etc. 

Their  lodges  or  wigwams  are  made  by  planting  poles  in  a 
circular  form  in  the  ground  and  covering  them  with  the  bark 
of  the  white  birch.  This  bark  is  so  white  that,  where  a  num- 
ber of  these  lodges  are  standing  together  on  a  green  and  level 
bank  of  some  lake  or  river,  which  is  the  kind  of  spot  usually 
selected,  they  present  a  very  neat  and  not  uninteresting  ap- 
pearance. The  bark  of  the  birch  is  used  for  almost  every  com- 
mon purpose  of  life.  Their  houses,  canoes,  drinking-vessels, 
eating-vessels,  etc.,  are  made  of  this  material.  In  the  Spring 
this  bark  makes  the  dish  which  receives  the  sap  from  the  maple, 
and  the  luuhuk  which  holds  the  sugar.  In  fact  it  supplies  the 
place  of  all  those  tin,  iron,  wooden,  brass  and  clay  utensils 
which  make  up  the  furnish  of  a  white  man's  dwelling. 

Note  18. — *'It  is  the  wailing  for  the  dead,"  etc. 

The  evening  is  the  time  always  selected  for  this.  I  was  wit- 
ness to  one  of  these  scenes,  and  cannot  better  describe  it  than  by 
giving  a  part  of  a  letter  to  a  friend  on  the  night  it  occurred. 

**I  was  sitting  at  my  table  to-night,  quietly  absorbed  in  a 
French  tract,  when  the  young  Frenchman  entered  and  told  me 
to  come  out  and  listen.  I  went  out  witii  him  and  heard, — but 
before  telling  what  I  heard,  let  me  describe,  if  I  can,  the  night 
and  the  appearance.  On  one  side  of  the  fort  lies  Sandy  Lake, 
whose  surface  is  broken  by  many  a  beautiful  island  ;  on  the 
other  side  stretches  a  dense  wilderness,  whose  quiet  is  almost 
unbroken  for  manv  miles,  and  over  all  is  now  laid  an  immense 
body  of  snow.     The  night  is  one  of  those  peculiar  to  a  North- 


If 


mmmm 


72 


THE  OJIBUE  CONQUEST. 


ern  climate.  The  moon,  which  is  about  at  its  second  quarter, 
cannot  be  seen,  although  the  sky  is  not  cloudy.  A  light  mist 
that  hangs  in  the  air  diffuses  its  light  equally  over  the  whole 
sky,  throwing  a  kind  of  supernatural  light  over  all  objects.  It 
is  so  light  as  to  render  the  islands  and  the  scenery  around 
visible,  yet  with  that  indistinct  kind  of  visibility  which  gives 
full  scope  to  the  imagination.  Ak  the  source  of  the  light  can- 
not be  seen,  all  portions  of  the  sky  being  equally  bright,  it 
seems  as  though  the  a;r  itself  was  a  soft  luminous  medium,  and 
in  contemplating  it,  a  kind  of  awe  irresistibly  takes  possession 
of  the  mind.  It  was  thus  with  me,  as  I  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  out,  and  the  sounds  which  met  my  ear  were  not  calcu- 
lated to  diminish  this  feeling.  A  wailing,  the  most  melancholy 
that  the  mind  can  imagine,  broke  upon  the  stillness  of  the 
scene,  like  the  requiem  of  spirits  from  another  world.  I  am 
naturally  superstitious,  and  before  I  liad  time  to  collect  my 
thoughts  a  thousand  indescribable  emotions  had  passed  over  me. 
And  even  when,  af 'er  a  few  moments,  I  had  learned  the  cause, 
these  feeling^i  did  iiot  altogether  leave  me.  It  was  the  Indian 
wail  for  the  dead.  A  young  Indian  woman  had  cliosen  the 
occasion  to  exhibit  the  customary  signs  of  grief  for  some  rela- 
tive deceased  ;  and  surely  she  could  not  have  selected  a  time 
more  suitable  tc  the  wailing  tribute  paid  to  the  departed.  Such 
wailings,  I  am  told,  are  common,  but  I  can  only  hope  that  they 
will  hereafter  choose  a  time  less  calculated  to  work  upon  a  sensi- 
tive imagination." 

The  Sioux  accompany  their  wailing  with  inflictions  upon  their 


THE  OJIBUE  COXQUEST. 


bodies.     I  liave  seen  their  women  cut  tlieniselves  in  a  friglitful 
manner,  at  the  death  of  a  child. 

Note  19.  — "Me-me,  fair  chikl  of  light  and  love,"  etc. 

Me-me  in  Ojihue  signifies  a  dove. 

Note  20.—  "  In  the  soft  language  of  her  tribe,"  etc. 

The  Ojibue  is  one  of  the  most  musical  and  at  the  same  time 
nobie  languages  I  have  ever  heard.  It  is  susceptible  of  express- 
ing the  nicest  shades  of  difference  in  thought  by  endless  modifi- 
cations of  the  verb.  It  abounds  with  vowels  and  words  of  great 
length,  and  is  consequently  admirably  adapted  to  oratory, — 
fine  4)ecimens  of  which  I  have  often  heard  at  their  councils. 
Their  language  may  justly  be  -tyled  the  Greek  of  America. 

Note  21. — "'Tis  noon  again,  the  sun's  warm  beam 

Is  glancing  brightly  o'er  the  stream,"  etc. 
L<i  Rii'ier  il/oww/.sr,  which  comes  into  the  southwestern  ex- 
tremity of  the  bay. 

Note  22. — "And  meed  to  warrior's  heart  more  sweet 

Which  in  the  Spirit  land  should  greet,"  etc. 

liravcry  is  the  key  that  unlocks  the  entrance  to  the  most 
exalted  joys  of  the  Great  West.  The  peaceful  virtues  of 
humility,  forgiveness  and  benevolence  are  powerless  to  open 
the  gates  of  an  Indian  paradise. 


10 


TZ^mt.. .  - 


I 


• 

•                                                                                                                       ■--,      "* 

':'^1 

t         '■                                                               ■■..■' 

^^i||(PB^5'' ■■■■■'. , 

83    YEARS" 


m 


,< 


n 


Wafs  of  Idle  Hours. 

^jH%  ^^%  5^%  ^^% 

THE  INDIAN'S  REVENGE. 


Beneath  a  grove  that  shadows  o'er 
Fair  Lac-du-Sable's  quiet  shore 
Til  ere  was  a  voice  of  wailing  low, 
And  many  hurrying  to  and  fro, 
To  look  and  weep  o'er  one  who  fell 
By  foeman's  blow  aimed  but  too  well 
To  drain  the  last  of  life's  red  tide, — 
Telling  who  gave  the  blow,  he  died. 
The  name  fell  on  the  father's  ear; 
He  waited  not  for  more  to  hear, — 
With  quiver  o'er  his  shoulder  cast, 
And  bow  within  his  right  hand  clasped. 
While  look  and  eye  and  feature  showed 
The  purpose  in  his  heart  that  glowed  ; 
And  with  no  thought  or  look  turned  back, 
He  pressed  upon  the  murderer's  track. — 
The  murderer  flew  with  the  speed  of  wind, 


,  I 


w\ 


IS 


76 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


For  he  knew  tlie  avenger  press'd  behind  ; 

And  he  fancied  he  ahnost  heard  the  sonnd 

Of  Ids  feet  as  they  swiftly  touched  the  ground  ; 

And  lie  strained  each  nerve  to  its  utmost  strength 

To  leave  behind  as  he  hoped,  at  length, 

The  hand  of  the  sire  which  he  felt  no  prayer 

Would  stay  from  his  life  should  he  meet  him  there 

Leagues  were  pass'd,  yet  away  !  away  ! 

By  wood,  nor  mountain,  nor  river  they  stay  ; — 

By  fear  and  vengeance  their  speed  impelled ; 

O'er  all  that  opposed,  their  way  they  held. — 

They  fled  and  pursued  till  the  sun  was  set. 

Nor  stopped  they  then,  but  onward  yet. 

With  speed  unchecked,  till  the  last  faint  light 

Of  d.'iy  had  pass'd  in  the  darkness  of  night. 

Then,  while  he  could  not  see  to  fly, 

As  night's  dark  hours  pass'd  slowly  by. 

The  murderer  lay  in  a  covert  thick. 

With  ear  upon  the  ground  which  quick 

Would  catch  full  well  the  faintest  sound 

Of  footsteps,  should  they  fall  around ; 

As  still  as  though  he  lay  in  death, 

He  hardly  drew  his  smothered  breath, 

But  watched  with  every  pulse  awake, 

Until  the  dawn  of  day  should  break. — 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Mi(li?ight  pass'd,  and  tliere  met  his  ear 

The  sound  of  footsteps  stealing  near, 

And  he  plainly  lieard  the  dead  leaves  crack, 

As  they  broke  beneath  the  coming  triick. 

He  sprang  to  rush  from  his  lurking-place, 

But  stopp'd  as  lie  heard  the  rapid  pace 

Of  a  wild  beast  scared  by  the  noise  he  made, 

And  down  again  in  his  covert  laid. 

The  pursuer  on  his  track  lay  down, 

And  soundly  slept,  when  the  night  came  on, 

For  he  knew,  full  well,  tluit  he  should  need 

His  utmost  strength  and  his  utmost  s^^eed, 

To  bear  him  on  with  ihe  force  that  bore 

The  steps  of  him  who  was  fleeing  before. 

The  morning  came,  and  away  !  away  ! 

They  fled  with  the  first  faint  dawn  of  day  ; 

The  nmrderer  like  a  hunted  stag. 

Who  knew  it  deatli  but  a  step  to  lag. 

Like  a  hound  when  on  the  wild  deer's  scent. 

Never  at  faulr,  the  avenger  went. 

All  day  long,  with  no  pause  for  rest. 

On  their  tiresome  way,  like  the  wind  they  press'd. 

Night  fell  again,  and  again  tliey  cast 

Them  on  tlie  ground  till  its  hours  were  pass'd. 

And  the  first  approach  of  dawning  light 


n 


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WATFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


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Sliould  .start  them  up  to  renew  their  flight. 

The  pursuer  reposed  calmly  and  still, 

Upon  the  hank  of  a  gentle  rill, 

Whose  music  fell  on  his  weary  breast 

With  a  charm  tliat  brought  a  grateful  rest, 

And  with  the  dawn  of  morning  came 

Fresli  vigor  to  his  exhausted  frame. 

The  murderer  watched,  as  the  night  before, 

Or  if  weariness  for  a  moment  o'er 

His  trembling  limbs  brought  a  brief  repose, 

His  weary  eyelids  would  hardly  close 

Before  some  visions  of  fear  would  scare 

His  tortured  mind,  and  with  standing  hair 

And  quickened  breath,  would  start  to  fly, 

And  when  the  shock  of  the  dream  pass'd  by, 

Again  lie  silent  and  watchful  down, 

Till  the  weary  hours  of  the  night  were  gone. —     • 

The  third  day  dawned  and  they  may  not  stay ; 

But  up  again, — and  away  !  away  ! 

Through  forest  wild  and  swampy  bed 

Of  rushes  and  ferns,  away  they  sped ; 

Nor  stopped  when  the  rushing  streams  they  met, 

But  through  its  waters  fled  onward  yet. 

And  bounded  up  o'er  the  rocky  bank. 

With  the  dashing  spray  of  its  waters  dank ; 


•il 


^m 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


•9 


i. 


Scaling  the  crags  with  no  thought  of  dread, 

Where  the  wild  goat  would  hardly  dare  to  tread.— 

The  noonday  sun  poured  its  burning  rays 

Along  their  path  with  its  withering  blaze 

Of  light  and  heat,  and  scarce  was  there 

A  breath  sufficient  of  passing  air 

To  stir  the  leaves  of  the  boughs  that  bent 

Over  their  heads  as  they  onward  went.— 

The  fugitive  felt  his  strength  recede, 

And  weariness  check  his  flagging  speed, 

And  he  laid  him  down  on  the  mossy  brink 

Of  a  cool  and  bubbling  brook  to  drink ; 

And  paused,  e'er  resuming  his  flight,  to  lave 

His  burning  brow  in  the  sparkling  wave ; 

For  its  veins  were  bursting  with  press  of  heat, 

And  its  pulses  quiokly  and  fiercely  beat ; 

And  his  wild  eye  glowed  with  a  restless  look, 

And  his  quivering  frame  with  exhaustion  shook. 

He  heard  a  sound  on  his  track  behind  ; — 

Was  it  the  dead  leaves  stirred  by  the  wind  ?— 

He  turned  to  look  and  his  vision  fell 

On  his  avenger,  who  but  too  well. 

Through  river  and  wood  and  tangled  glen, 

Had  followed  unerring  his  track  till  then. — 

An  arrow  whizzed  rapidly  through  the  air, 


i-    ■ 
I 


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80 


WArf\S  OF  1 1)  Lb:  HOURS, 


And  t;in<^l('(l  within  liis  matted  hair. 

He  waited  not  till  another  sped, 

But  <;athered  his  stren*j;th  and  onward  fled, 

With  one  more  struggle,  deep  desperate, 

To  elude  the  hand  and  l)affle  the  hate 

Of  the  eye  that  his  traek  so  well  could  mark, 

And  the  heart  that  beat  with  intent  so  dark. — 

'Twas  a  fearful  struggle,  but  'twas  in  vain, 

That  eye  was  on  him  and  would  remain 

Till  blood  for  blood,  as  the  debt  he  owed. 

For  the  deed  he  fled,  had  freely  flowed. — 

For  hours  yet  on  their  course  they  toiled; 

And  the  fugitive  still  the  avenger  foiled ; 

But  he  felt  his  strength  each  moment  flag. 

And  his  limbs  with  increasing  weariness  drag; 

Yet  onward  he  urged  his  way,  until 

He  gained  the  brow  of  a  craggy  hill. 

On  one  side  of  which  was  a  rocky  steep. 

Where  yawned  a  precipice  dark  and  deep. 

He  gained  the  point  of  the  utmost  ledge, 

And  pausing  a  moment  upon  the  edge. 

He  cast  one  glance  of  defiance  back 

At  him  who  was  straining  on  his  track. 

Then  through  the  air,  like  the  shaft  from  a  bow, 

Sped  and  mangled  lay  on  the  rocks  below. 


m 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


81 


THE  CROWNING  CURSE. 


In  ancient  days,  when  earth  was  young  and  man 
With  simple  tastes  and  nature's  gifts  content; 

As  when,  in  Paradise  the  race  began, 
His  days  in  peaceful  toil  and  virtue  spent. 

When  balmy  sleep  waited  on  labor's  close,    " 
As  fell  the  cooling  shadows  of  the  night ; 

And  mind  and  body  sank  in  sweet  repose, 
With  rest  unbroken  till  the  morning  light. 

Though  then  life  had  its  complement  of  cares, 
And  pain,  disease  and  death,  the  common  lot ; 

And  the  unwary  feet  enough  of  snares ; 
And  Eden's  glory  lost,  but  not  forgot. 

Yet,  of  that  Eden  there  to  all  remained 

Some  fragments  still,  their  cares  and  toils  to  bless  ; 

Some  of  its  pristine  sweets  they  still  retained, 

And  in  their  culture  still  found  happiness. 

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82 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


Satan  beheld,  and  his  immortal  hate 

Was  fiercely  stirred,  that  still  his  eye  must  meet 
Aught  that  his  hatred  could  not  satiate; — 

The  world's  deep  misery  still  incomplete. 


s.« 


What  have  I  left  undone  that  could  be  done 
To  bring  upon  the  world  a  blight  and  curse  j 

Of  all  my  train  of  ills,  is  there  yet  one 
Untried,  to  make  its  heritage  yet  worse  ? 


Have  I  not  brought  it  strife  and  greed  and  pride ; 

« 

Yea,  more,  the  hate  that  sheds  a  brother's  blood  ;- 
Sorrow  and  tears  and  death  !  what  more  beside 
Could  I  bestow,  to  swell  the  direful  flood  ? 

I  cannot  curse  the  ground ;  seed-time  and  rain 
Will  come  in  spite  of  all  my  powers  to  check  ; — 

And  harvests  fill  their  storehouses  with  grain, 
And  fragrant  flowers  the  landscape  still  bedeck. 


I- 


These  sons  of  earth,  what  nature  thus  bestows 
Receive,  and  in  fruition  find  welcome  respite 

From  what  my  vengeance  hath  produced  of  woes  ;- 
Defeating  both  my  purpose  and  my  might. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


83 


The  fruits  that  thus  far  yield  them  naught  but  good 
Shall  be  transformed  to  ministers  of  woe ; 

And  make  of  that  which  now  is  healthful  food, 
Man's  ever  deepest,  darkest,  deadliest  foe. 

The  pure,  refreshing  spring  shall  they  forsake, 
And  in  its  stead  shall  drink  the  "  liquid  fire  " 

Which  I  shall  henceforth  teach  them  how  to  make  ',— 
The  last  and  crowning  curse  of  my  desire. 

The  wife's  and  mother's  tears,— the  children's  cry, 
With  cruelty  and  hunger  gaunt,  for  bread  ;— 

Dead  hopes,  dead  joys,— dead  all  but  misery  ;— 
Body  and  soul  to  all  that's  noble,  dead ! 

These,  and  disgrace  and  poverty  and  crime. 
The  drunkard's  lot  and  heritage  abide 

Henceforth,  in  every  age  and  every  clime,— 
And  my  Satanic  will  is  satisfied  ! 


I; 


84 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


\t    ' 


CENTENNIAL  CELEBRATION  OF 
MY  ALMA  MATER-A.  D.  1894. 


Hail  Union !     Our  loved  Alma  Mater  hail ! 

Although  a  century  hath  pass'd  o'er  thee, 
Thy  pristine  strength  and  glory  do  not  fail ; 

They  still  are  thine,  in  an  intens'd  degree. 

Thy  walls  and  groves  are  to  thy  sons  as  dear 
As  Academia's  shade,  in  olden  days, 

To  Hella's  favored  youth, — as  gathered  here 
Again  upon  these  old-time  scenes  we  gaze. 

The  yearnings,  and  the  heart's  wild  beat  for  fame 
That  nerved  us  for  our  daily  tasks, — with  zest 

Come  back ;  almost  to  light  again  the  flame 
That  animated  then  our  youthful  breast. 

And  that  immortal,  new-world  Nestor, — Nott ! 

Sage,  friend  and  mentor, — all  combined  in  one  ;- 
By  Union's  sons  can  never  be  forgot; — 

His  honored  name  shall  stand  long  as  the  sun 


WA IFS  OF  IDLE  HO  UES.  85 

Shall  shine  on  Union's  towers,  loved  and  revered;— 
A  synonym  of  all  that's  good  and  great; 

By  sympathetic  words  and  deeds  endeared 
To  every  heart  that  came  beneath  its  weight. 

And  other  names  upon  our  memory  press  • 
Names  Time's  erasive  touch  cannot  efface, 

Of  noble  and  devoted  men,  who  scarce  the  less 
Have  borne  their  part  in  hallowing  the  place. 

The  pure  and  godly  Potter,— Hr  Praeses  !— 
The  genial  Jackson,  scholarly  Yates  as  well;— 

The  guileless,  tender-hearted  Proudfit;— these 
Are  names  on  which  we  still  delight  to  dwell. 

Thou  dear  old  Union  ;— whereso'er  their  lot, 
And  whatso'er  that  lot  for  good  or  ill ; 

Thou  never  can  be,  by  thy  sons,  forgot;— 
Thy  memories  will  cling  around  them  still. 


(f 


86 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


HOPE. 


ft  • 


Athwart  the  hope  of  worldly  getting 
There  comes  another, — born  of  God  ; 

A  hope  into  the  dark  heart  letting 
A  light  to  cheer  life's  darkest  road. 

The  brightest  hopes  earth  can  present  us 
But  fail  to  make  their  promise  good  ; — 

Their  nature  false  cannot  content  us ; — 
We  should  not  let  them  if  they  could. 

The  world's  best  gifts  ;  how  evanescent, 
Though  keeping  till  life's  latest  day ; 

For  life  is  but  a  fleeting  present ; 

One  moment  here, — then  pass'd  awa3\ 

It  is  the  life  that  then  is  entered, 

The  real  life  that  endeth  never  ; 
Where,  if  our  heart's  best  hopes  are  centered, 

They  shall  be  realized  forever. 


I 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

No  eye  hath  seen  nor  on  ear  broken 
The  joys  that  wait  fulfilment  there  ;- 

No  words  by  mortal  lips  e'er  spoken, 
The  full  fruition  can  declare. 


87 


Then  why,  0  blind  heart  and  demented, 
On  mortal  things  to  rest, — so  prone ! 

Why,  with  earth's  cheating  hopes  contented, 
When  they  should  rest  on  Heaven's  alone? 


88 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


"FOR  THERE  SHALL  BE  NO  NIGHT 

THERE!" 

Rev.  xxi.,  25. 


No  night  there ! 
No  wearied  limbs  o'erborne  with  toil  and  care ; 

No  burdened  heart  with  pain  and  sorrow  press'd ; 
No  aching  eyes  bedimm'd  with  weeping  there, 
To  need  the  darkness  of  the  night  for  rest ; 

No  night  there ! 

No  night  there ! 
Nothing  that  seeks  seclusion  from  the  light ; 
No  base,  unholy  thought  or  word  or  deed ; 
No  lurking  vice,  no  vile  unseemly  sight, 
A  shield  of  darkness  and  of  night  to  need  ; — 

No  night  there ! 


WATFS  OF  IDLE  HOURs! 


89 


IGHT 


No  night  there ! 
Here,  0  how  welcome  often  is  the  night  I 

How  grateful  is  the  coucli  on  which  to  rest! 
Glad  of  the  brief  oblivion,  though  sHght, 
Which   sleep  and   darkness    bring  the  troubled 
breast. 

How  welcome  night ! 


:e; 

3ress'd ; 
-e. 


No  night  there ! 
But  light  intense,  effulgent  and  eternal 

Fills  all  that  radiant  home  of  love  and  bliss ; 
Where  dwells  the  Infinite  in  light  supernal, 
With  those,— the  trophies  of  his  love  in  this,-— 

No  night  there ! 

No  night  there ! 
There  can  be  none,— the  Lamb  is  ever  there, 
''The  Light  thereof."— "The  bright  and  morning 
star!"— 

A  light  how  glorious,— how  wondrous  fair 
Of   love  and   joy   which    naught  can    come  to 
mar; — 

No  night  there ! 

12 


Iltl 


» 


90 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


No  night  there ! 

From  all  our  nights  of  weeping ;  from  all  our  days 
of  grief; 

In  that  bright  world  forever,  a  long  and  sweet  re- 
lief!— 

Though  meeting  us  so  often,  while  toiling,  hoping 
here, 

They   have   no  place  forever,  within  that  blissful 
sphere ; — 

No  night  there ! 


No  night  there ! 
Then  0,  my  soul  be  waiting,  that  land  of  light  to 

see; 
And  let  the  prospect  cheer  thee,  though  now  thou 

burdened  be  ; 
Thy   night  of  darkness  here,  full  soon  shall  pass 

away 
Into  the  glorious  morning  of  that  eternal  day. — 

No  night  there ! 


.  t 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


91 


ur  days 
weet  re- 
hoping 
blissful 


light  to 
)w  thou 
all  pass 


''?a66ovvl  ha  am^'XfA/.co." 
Mark  x.,  51. 


0,  DARKENED  mind ! 
For  long  years  hast  thou  been  so  blind  ! 

With  Heavenly  light 
Flooding  thy  pathway,  has  thy  sight 
Boen  closed  to  its  effulgent  glory  ; 
And  all  these  long  years  has  the  story ,- 
The  story  old  but  ever  new, 

Of  Him  who  by  Tiberius'  sea 
The  multitude  around  him  drew, 

Been  as  a  mythic  dream  to  thee.— 

The  words  that  fell 
Like  manna  /rum  His  lips,  and  tell 
To  mortal  ears 
What  all  the  years 
Had  never  heard  or  dreamed  before ; 
How  earth's  sad  tears 


,<   « 


v., 


Iffl  i 


Vi 


92  WAirs  OF  TDLE  HOURS. 

From  hopeless  eyes,  might  evermore 

Be  turned  to  pearls  of  beauty, 
Wellhig  up  from  hearts  o'erflowing; 
With  more  than  earthly  rai)ture  glowing. — 

Remorse  from  long  neglected  duty 
Exchanged  for  joy  of  sin  forgiven. 
And  foretaste  of    le  bliss  of  Heaven. 
How  the  dark  shadows  which  control 
All  the  approaches  of  the  soul 
In  darkness  held, 
May  be  dispelled  ; 
And  light  whose  beams  shall  never  cease 
Bring  thee  eternal  rest  and  peace. — 
O,  my  dull,  foolish  soul ;  hast  thou 

Till  now 
Through  all  the  past  years  closed  thy  eyes 

Against  the  entrance  of  this  light ! 
Art  thou  not  ready  to  be  wise, 

And  cry,  "  Lord  that  I  may  receive  my  sight  P^ 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


93 


THE  CRUCIFIXION. 

When  astonished  at  mid-day,  the  sun  hid  its  light ; — 
When  opened  were   graves,  and  the   dead  rose  to 

sight  ;— 
When  the  veil  of  the  Temple  was  severed  in  twain, 
And  the  solid  rocks  rent  on  Jerusalem's  plain  ; 

Then  a  fountain,  O,  Sinner !  was  opened  for  thee. 
Whose  life-giving  waters  forever  flow  free ; 
And  whose  touch  has  a  virtue  to  instantlv  heal 
The  deadliest  wounds  that  the  heart  can  reveal. 

Is  the  leprosy  deep  that  has  poisoned  thy  soul  ? 
This  fountain's   clear  stream  will  at  once  make  it 

whole ; 
For,  of  all  the  vast  throng  who  its  waters  have  tried, 
Not  one  disappointed  has  gone  from  its  tide. 

Has  the  stain  of  thy  soul  felt  that  fount's  healing 

power, 
And  its  whole  depths  been  filled  with  the  joy  of  that 

hour? 
If  not, — then  0,  sinner,  no  longer  delay, 
But  come  and  be  healed  in  that  fountain  to-day. 


J 


94 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


WAITING. 

The  Saviour  at  the  portal 
Of  thy  heart  is  waiting, 

His  peace  and  life  immortal 
To  give  thee  for  the  taking. 

Receive  Him,  0,  receive  Him 
Into  thy  life  and  heart ; 

Lest  by  delay  thou  grieve  Him 
Forever  to  depart. 

Like  Thomas,  come,  confess  Him, 
Both  by  thy  deed  and  word  ; 

And,  Thomas-like,  address  Him 
As  thy  God  and  Lord. 

Then  go  thy  way  rejoicing. 
And  let  thy  conduct  prove, — 

And  day  by  day  be  voicing 
The  jjower  of  His  love. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


95 


PATIENCE 

Be  patient,  soul !  Beat  not  thy  wing 
Against  the  bars  that  cage  thee  here  ; 

But  wait  with  cheerfuhiess,  and  sing 
The  songs  that  will  thy  bondage  cheer. 

Thy  bars  are  weakening  day  by  day ;~ 
Short  is  thy  bondage  at  its  best  ;— 

Soon  thy  freed  wings  can  fly  away, 
And  end  forever  thy  unrest. 


96 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


JUDAS  ISCARIOT. 


i  < 


It  ; 


1 


Not  for  mines  of  gold 
Did  Simon's  son  his  friend  and  Lord  betray ; 

Not  for  wealth  untold 
Did  he  barter  to  death  his  Lord  away ; 

Not  for  tempting  gems 
Of  costly  pearls,  or  diamonds  "  rich  and  rare ;" 

Such  as  in  diadems 
Earth's  crowned  kings  and  mighty  monarchs  wear  ; 

But  for  ten,  only  tlirice. 
Of  paltry  silver  pieces,  was  He  sold ; 

He  whose  infinite  price 
Could  not,  e'en  by  Infinity,  be  told. 

And  not  alone  his  friend 
Did  Judas  sell ; — himself,  his  very  soul, 

Went,  in  the  end. 
In  that  foul  bargain,  to  the  bitter  goal 


3  wear  ; 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Where  crime  and  greed 
Like  his  must  ever  culminate ;  and  where 

The  only  meed 
Is  hopeless,  helpless,  self-condemned  despair. 

And  still  perpetuate 
Are  Judases  in  every  age  and  clime  ! 

His  warning  fate 
Is  all  unheeded,  till  the  reckoning  time 

Is  come,  as  come 
It  must  and  will,  most  surely,  soon  or  late ; 

And  standing  dumb 
They  meet,  as  Judas  did,  the  traitor's  iaie. 


97 


13 


rr 


r  i> 


98 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


TO 


-,  IN  BEREAVEMENT. 


0,  SORROWING  heart !     Is  there  no  healing  bahn 
To  soothe,  and  brmg  a  sweet  and  peaceful  calm ; 
Has  neither  Earth  nor  Heaven  a  sure  relief, — 
In  all  their  stores,  a  cure  for  human  grief! 

Must  the  torn  heart  with  its  great  anguish  break ! 
Is  there  no  lodge  to  which  it  can  betake ; — 
No  friendly  hand  to  grasp  ; — no  faithful  breast 
On  which  the  weary,  aching  head  may  rest ; 

And  for  awhile  to  grief  be  lost,  and  feel 
The  soothing  power  of  sympathy  to  heal ; 
And  lift  the  weights  which  now  so  sorely  press 
And  crush  thee  in  thy  seeming  helplessness  ? 

Sad  heart !     There  is,  both  human  and  divine, 
A  power  to  conquer  even  grief  like  thine  ; — 
The  human  hand  laid  kindly  on  thy  head  ; — 
The  human  tear  for  others'  sorrows  shed; — 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HO  URS. 


99 


ENT. 

aim 
3alm; 


•reak ! 
3ast 


The  tender,  loving  words  in  accents  broken  ;— 
The  silent  sympathy,  though  no  word  spoken  ; 
These  shall  thy  griefs  and  burdens  lighter  make, 
And  let  the  billows  o'er  thee  gentler  break. 

But  0,  how  far  beyond  the  utmost  reach 
Of  highest  human  thought  or  human  speech 
The  soothing,  healing,  sweetly  calming  power 
Divine  love  brings  in  sorrow's  darkest  hour. 

"  Come  Ux\to  me  !"     0  burdened  heart  go  there  ; 
In  that  divine  compassion  go  and  share; — 
Thy  tears  shall  all  be  swallowed  up  in  joy  ; 
And  songs  thy  days,  instead  of  grief,  employ. 


ress 
i? 


ne. 


100 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


STABAT  mater; 

Stabat  mater  dolorosa, 
Juxta  crucem  lacrymosa, 

Dum  pendebat  filius ; 
Cujus  animam  gementem, 
Contristantem  et  dolentem 

Pertransiv-it  gladius. 

0  quam  tristis  et  afflicta 
Fuit  ilia  benedicta 

Mater  unigeniti ; 
Quffi  moerebat  et  dolebat 
Et  tremebat,  dum  videbat 

Nati  poenas  inclyti. 

Quia  est  homo  qui  non  fleret, 
Matrem  Christi  si  videret 
In  tanto  supplicio  ? 

*  I  am  aware  that  there  have  been  numerous  translations  of 
this  Hymn  in  various  languages,  but  this  may  not  be  a  conclu- 
sive reason  why  others  still  should  not  be  allowed.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  no  one  person  can  bring  out  all  the  power  and  beauty 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS, 


101 


STABAT  MATER. 

Near  the  cross  her  vigil  keeping, 
Stands  the  virgin  mother  weeping, 

While  her  son  hangs  nailed  thereon. 
Anguished  is  her  heart  and  aching, 
With  its  torture  near  to  ])reaking, 

As  a  sword  through  it  had  gone. 

O,  how  sad  and  press'd  with  anguish, 
See  the  blessed  mother  languish. 

Mother  of  the  Holy  One  ; 
Grief  and  woe  her  soul  enfolding. 
While  with  tearful  eyes  beholding 

Sufferings  of  her  glorious  son. 

Who  his  ready  tears  could  smother. 
While  he  sees  Christ's  tender  mother 
In  agony  so  deep  and  wild  ; 

of  the  original.  Professor  Sclilff  says  that  '*It  is  one  of  the 
most  pathetic,  as  the  Dies  Ime  is  the  most  sublime  hymn  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  While  it  has  been  characterized  as  Maryolatry, 
it  still  has  many  touches  of  genuine  devotion  and  spiritual 
power  and  sweetness." 


^^ 


i 


102 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Quis  non  posset  contristari, 
Piam  matrem  contemplari, 
Dolentem  cum  filio ! 


!i 


!      I 


Pro  peccatis  suie  gentis 
Vidit  Jesum  in  tormentis 

Et  flagellis  subclitum ; 
Vidit  suum  dulcem  natum 
Morientem  desolatum 

Dum  emisit  spiritum. 


Eia  mater,  fons  amoris ! 
Me  sentire  vim  doloris 

Fac,  ut  tecum  lugeam  ; 
Fac,  ut  ardeat  cor  meum 
In  amando  Christum  deum 

Ut  sibi  complaceam. 


Sancta  mater,  istud  agas, 
Crucifixi  fige  plagas 

Cordi  meo  valide ; 
Tui  nati  vulnerati 
Tam  dignati  pro  me  pati, 

Poenas  mecum  divide. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HO  UBS. 

Who  would  not  be  tear  imbued, 
Mary  mother  as  he  viewed 
Grieving  o'er  her  holy  child. 

For  His  people's  derelictions 
Sees  Him  sutfer  these  inflictions, 

Even  to  the  cruel  spear; 
Sees  her  precious  offspring  lying, 
Fainting,  desolate  and  dying, 

Yielding  up  His  life  so  dear. 

Mother !     Fount  of  pure  affection. 
Let  me  taste  thy  deep  dejection. 

That  my  tears  may  flow  with  thine ; 
Let  my  fervent  heart  be  glowing 
With  its  love  to  Christ  o'erflowino- 

While  I  share  His  love  divine. 

Mother  !  let  the  pangs  abide 
Of  my  Lord  the  crucified, 

Firmly  in  my  suffering  heart. 
As  thy  stricken  son  so  freely, 
Deigned  to  suffer  thus  for  me, 

Let  me  share  with  Him  the  smart. 


103 


i  li 


104 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


If 


*  J 


n 


H 


Fac  me  vere  tecum  flere, 
Crucifixo  condolere, 

Donee  ego  vixero ; 
Juxta  crueem  tecum  stare 
Te  libenter  sociare 

In  planctu  desidero. 

Virgo  virginum  pra3clara, 
Mihi,  jam  non  sis  amara 

Fac  me  tecum  plangere  ; 
Fac  ut  portem  Christi  mortem 
Passionis  fac  consortem 

Et  plagas  recolere. 

Fac  me  plagis  vulnerari 
Cruce  hac  inebriari 

Et  cruore  filii ; 
Inflammatus  et  accensus 
Per  te,  virgo,  sine  defensus 

In  die  judicii. 

Fac  me  cruce  custodiri 
Morte  Christi  pra3muniri 

Confoveri  gratia. 
Quando  corpus  morietur 
Fac,  ut  animse  donetur 

Paradisi  gloria. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

May  my  tears  with  thine  be  blended, 
As  I  mourn  for  Him  suspended, 
While  my  mortal  life  shall  be : 
Near  the  cross  with  thee  abiding, 
All  thy  griefs  with  thee  dividing, 

I  would  bear  them  thus  with  thee. 
Virgin  ;  virgins  all  excelling  ; 
In  thy  gracious  favor  dwelling, 

Let  me,— let  me  mourn  with  thee  : 
Let  me  thus  the  cross  be  bearing. 
In  His  awful  passion  sharing. 
Partner  of  His  agony. 

With  His  stripes  let  me  be  bruised. 
By  His  cross  and  blood  enthused. 

Of  thy  son  the  blood  and  cross  :— 
Heart  and  soul  with  ardor  glowing, 
Let  me,  at  the  judgment  showing. 

Shielded  be  by  thee  from  loss. 
Make  Christ's  death  my  saving  power, 
And  His  cross  my  hiding  tower. 

Warmed  and  nourished  by  His  grace ; 
And  when  death  shall  claim  this  mortal' 
May  my  spirit  tlirough  the  portal 
Find  in  Paradise  a  place. 

14 


105 


II 


li! 


106 


WATFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS, 


i 


i  lifll 


■i 


41 


"IN  THE  CROSS  OF  CHRIST  I 

GLORY." 

Gaudeo  in  cruce  Christi, 

Superante  muncli  res ; 
Totus  splendor  sacris  dicti, 

Suos  luminal  frontes. 

Mala  cum  m'opprimunt  vitce, 
Metus  vexant,  fallunt  spes  ; 

Nunquam  crux  deerit  mihi, 
Placans  meos  terrores. 

Grata  bona  cum  effundunt 

Lucem  Itetam  in  via  ; 
Fulgor  cruce  excorruscat, 

Augens  mea  gaudia. 

Dolor,  Ifeta  ;  bona,  mala, 

Sanctificantur  cruce  : 
Hie  est  pax  interminata, 

Nitens  crescente  luce. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


107 


"ROCK  OF  AGES." 

A)aj^o<;  UtTfw^^  pro  me  fissus, 
Sim  secure  in  Te  missus  ; 
Aqua  cum  sanguine  miscens, 
Tuo  latere  effluens, — 
Sanet  perfecte  peccatum ; 
Jesu  me  fit  consecratum. 

Non  valet  labor  mea?  mands, 
Peragere  legis  rogatus  ;■— 
Mens  ardor  nunquam  cesset, 
Mens  dolor  semper  constet ; 
Hi  non  detergeant  peccatum  ; 
Ty  solus  me  facis  purgatum. 

Nullum  pretium  aftero ; 
Crucem  tantum  amplecto ; 
Nudum,  veste  tege  me; 
Inops,  gratiam  oro  te  ; 
Ad  fontem  fugio  impurus  ; 
Salva ;  aut  ero  moriturus. 


108 


WilFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Dum  vires  animse  agentur ; 
Cum  morte  occuli  cludentur ; 
Supra  mundum  cum  accedam, 
Et  Te  judicem  videbam  ; — 
A\wvj<;  /lerpoq^  pro  me  fissus, 
Sim  secure  in  Te  missus. 


I 


V 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS, 


109 


IN  RESURRECTION  DOMINI. 

(An  Old  Latin  Hymn-Author  Unknown.) 

Pone  luctum,  Magdalena! 

Et  Serena  lacrymas  ; 
Non  est  jam  Simonis  coena, 

Non  cur  fletum  exprimas 
Causa  mille  sunt  l^etandi, 
Causffi  niille  exultandi, 

Halleluia ! 

Sume  risum,  Magdalena ! 

Frons  nitescat  lucida  ; 

Demigravit  omnis  poena, 

Lux  coruscat  fulgida ; 

Christus  mundum  liberavit, 

Et,  de  morte  triumphavit, 

Halleluia  f 

Gaude,  plaude,  Magdalena  I 

Tumba  Christus  exiit ! 
Tristis  est  peracta  scena, 


110 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Victor  mortis  rediit ; 
Quern  deflebas  morientem, 
Nunc  arride  resurgentem ; 

Halleluia ! 


m 


Tolle  vultura,  Magdalena ! 

Redivivum  aspice ; 
Vide,  frons  quam  sit  amoena, 

Quinque  plagas  inspice ; 
Fulgent  sic  ut  margaritse 
Ornamenta  novae  vitae ; 

Halleluia ! 


.„i 


Vive,  vive,  Magdalena ! 

Tua  lux  reversa  est ; 
Gaudiis  turgescat  vena, 

Mortis  vis  abstersa  est ; 
Moesti  procul  sunt  dolores, 
Lseti  redeant  amores : — 

Halleluia ! 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


Ill 


THE  LORD'S  RESURRECTION. 

Cease  your  grief,  O,  child  of  weeping ! 

Wipe  away  your  sorrowing  tears  ; 
Grief  'tis  not  a  time  for  keeping,— 

Now  no  cause  for  gloomy  fears  ;— 
Thousands  now  to  banish  sadness,— 
Thousands  now  for  joy  and  gladness; 

Halleluia ! 

Let  the  tear-stained  face  be  glowing, 
Radiant  with  joy  the  brow  • 

Grace  and  life  and  peace  bestowing  ; 

Light  effulgent  bathes  us  now.— 
Freedom  to  the  world  Christ  giveth ; 
Conqueror  o'er  death,— He  liveth  ;— 

Halleluia! 

Clap  your  hands,  O  ye  who  languish  ! 

Christ  the  rocky  tomb  hath  left; 
Past  the  scene  so  full  of  anguish ; 

Death  o^  its  power  hath  been  bereft; 


i 

1 

i 

1 

4ii 


112  WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Him  whom  thou  lamented'st  dying, 
Greet  with  smiles  on  His  arising  ; — 

Halleluia ! 

Raise  aloft  your  eyes  of  sadness, 
See  your  Lord  who  lives  again  ; 

Look !     How  beams  His  brow  with  gladness ; 
And  the  wounds,  once  thrilled  with  pain, 

Now  like  orient  pearls  are  gleaming  ; 

Jewels  for  the  new  life  beaming, — 

Halleluia ! 

Live,  O,  live !    Thou  sad  and  doubting ! 

For  thy  light  has  come  again  ; 
Let  thy  heart  expand  with  scouting  ; 

Death  hath  no  more  power  to  reign, — 
Grief  and  woe  henceforth  repressing, — 
Let  love  reign,  the  glad  earth  blessing, — 

Halleluia. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


113 


luia! 


:ladness ; 
1  pain, 


uia ! 


»g 


ma. 


MY  SEVENTIETH  BIRTHDAY. 

Full  seven  decades  of  years  are  pass'd  ; — 
Threescore  and  ten  is  reached  at  last ; 
More  than  twelve  hundred  score  of  days 
Of  joys  and  sorrows,  light  and  haze. 

I  would  the  echo  of  these  years, 
So  full  of  joys,  so  full  of  tears, 
Would  hush  awhile,  that  I,  lo-day, 
With  vision  unencumbered,  may. 

With  mind  and  heart  alert,  look  back 
Along  the  oft  too  tortuous  track 
My  life  has  made,  and  recognize 
As  it  is  meet  I  should,  the  wise 

And  loving  hand  of  God  in  all ; — 

That  hand  without  which  doth  not  fall 

A  sparrow  even  to  the  ground. — 

In  all  these  years  there  If  not  found 

16 


114  WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Among  life's  joys  a  single  thrill 
But  came  the  gift  of  His  sweet  will : 
And  equally  no  thrill  of  pain 
In  which  His  love  did  not  sustain. 

0  God  !     I  would  to-day  anew 

Attune  my  heart  to  praises  due, 

For  friends  who  have  my  pathway  cheered,- 

Some  by  most  tender  ties  endeared ; 

Friends  who  have  borne  so  patiently 
With  faults  they  could  not  help  but  see ; 
Forgiving  and  forgetting  even, 
In  measure  full  seventy  times  seven. 

For  mercies  more  than  tongue  can  tell ; 
Those  given,  those  withheld  as  well ; 
For  now  I  see  'twas  love  denied 
The  things  for  which  I  often  sighed  ; 


And  in  this  confidence  I  rest, 
That  what  Thou  doest  still  is  best. — 
My  soul  to-day  with  glad  refrain 
Responds  to  Addison's  sweet  strain :- 


ii 


ered, — 


e; 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOUBS. 

"  When  all  Thy  mercies,  0,  my  God  ! 
My  rising  soul  surveys, 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 
In  wonder,  love  and  praise. 

"  Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 
My  daily  thanks  employ  ; 
Nor  is  the  least  a  thankful  heart 
That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy." 

Thus  do  thou  celebrate  this  day, 
My  grateful  heart !  with  thy  best  lay  ; 
And  give  to  Him  whose  love  ne'er  dies, 
Thy  most  exalted  sacrifice. 


116 


ipirM"n.'^gWKit--^^<«. 


116 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


m 


i 


SEPTUAGINTA  QUINQUE 

My  soul !  with  joyfulness  obey 
The  heavenly  impulse  which  to-day 
Would  lead  thee  once  again  to  give 
New  thanks  to  Him  in  whom  I  live. 

For  five  more  years  I  give  Him  praise, 
To  whom  I  owe  this  length  of  days  ; 
Days  that  so  graciously  have  brought 
Their  every  hour  with  blessings  fraught. 

Like  to  a  traveller  whose  feet, 
For  long  in  sunshine  and  in  heat. 
Have  wearily,  with  halting  stride. 
Toiled  up  some  mountain's  rugged  side. 

With  each  ascent  the  heaven's  blue 
Takes  a  distincter,  deeper  hue ; 
While  things  below,  but  late  so  bright, 
Are  slowly  fading  from  his  sight. 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS.  II7 

The  clouds  that  once  obscured  the  sky, 
Hiding  the  azure  from  his  eye, 
Are  all  below  him ;— the  clear  air 
And  heaven's  sunlight  only  there. 

Thus  as  my  feet  the  summit  near, 
The  sky  above  grows  bright  and  clear ; 
While  things  once  bright,  now  left  behind, 
Have  ceased  their  charm  o'er  eye  and  mind. 

Great  God  !  what  tribute  shall  I  bring 
To  Thee ;  what  worthy  offering, 
For  days  prolonged,  for  hopes  so  dear, 
For  blessings  multiplied  each  year  ? 

A  heart,  unworthy  though  it  be, 
If  grateful  is,  I  know,  to  Thee, 
The  most  acceptable ;  and  mine 
0  take,  and  make  more  wholly  thine. 


mmm 


118 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 


n^ 


•   % 


"^flftm.. 


OCTOGINTA. 

At  seventy  years  a  paean  glad 

I  sang  to  Him  whose  loving  care, 
Through  all  their  varied  changes  had, 

With  wondrous  patience,  brought  me  there. 

At  seventy-five  renewed  the  theme  ; 

Twining  a  garland  of  fresh  praise, 
For  years  of  which  I  dared  not  dream, 

And  blessings  which  had  crowned  their  days. 

And  now,  when  fourscore  years  are  flown, 

An  added  tribute  Lord  I  bring 
For  Thy  great  love  that  through  them  shone, — 

The  memories  sweet  that  round  them  cling. 

"  Labor  and  sorrow  is  their  strength," 

So  sang,  of  old,  the  man  of  God ; 
"  Though  fourscore  years  be  reached  at  length. 

And  all  ^heir  weary  pathway  trod." 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

Thanks  for  the  grace  that  I  can  say, 
Though  few  or  many  be  my  lot, 

My  evil  days,  they  did  not  stay, 
But  in  their  mercies  are  forgot. 

In  faith  and  hope  I  now  await, 

Though  long  delayed,  the  change  to  come, 
That  opens  the  celestial  gate. 

And  leads  me  to  the  heavenly  home. 

The  light  that  guides  my  footsteps  there, 
And  gilds  the  pathway  to  the  tomb, 

Grows  brighter,--more  intensely  fair, 
As  nearer  to  its  end  I  come. 


119 


il 


III 


120 


WAJFS  OF  WLE  HOURS. 


RETROSPECT. 

Mates  of  my  childhood ;  where  are  they, 
Whose  memory  is  still  so  dear ; — 

Have  they  indeed  all  pass'd  away  ? — 
Alas !  they  are  no  longer  here. 

The  friends  of  later,  riper  years ; — 
Have  they,  too,  passed  beyond  the  vale 

Where  joys  so  oft  give  place  to  tears, 
And  summer's  breeze  to  winter's  gale  ? 

And  those  still  closer  bound  by  ties 
Of  fellowship  so  full  of  bliss ; 

Have  they  all  reached  the  land  that  lies 
So  far,  and  yet  so  near  to  this  ? 

When  I  would  fain  the  roll-call  make, 

The  echo  of  my  voice  alone 
Is  the  response  I  can  awake, — 

The  ranks  are  empty, — gone,  all  gone ! 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOURS. 

No !  one,  the  partner  wlio  has  shared 
For  these  long  years  life's  good  and  ill, 

In  God's  good  mercy  still  is  si)ared, 
My  cup  of  blessing  yet  to  fill. 

And  best  of  all,  there  is  another, 

Of  whom  I  should  not  fail  to  speak, — 

"  Who  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother :" 
With  these,  why  need  I  further  seek  ? 


121 


10 


IP     ..II      I  I  ■"l»l|PM»lWVI.»V.;^.3^,,t, 


f 


122 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  KOURS. 


Ill 


i 


THE  ROBIN'S  NEST. 

Thkrj:'s  a  linden  tree  by  our  cottage  door 
Where,  when  the  soft  breezes  of  spring, 

With  foliage  dense  had  covered  it  o'er, 
The  timidest  warbler  might  sing  ; — 

A  pair  of  bright  redbreasts  their  home-nest  made 
In  its  branches,  inwoven  with  care, 

And  hid  in  the  linden's  protecting  shade ; — 
"  Sweet  Home  "  for  the  beautiful  pair. 

There  were  moss  and  hair  and  wee  bits  of  wool 
In  the  warp  and  the  woof  of  their  nest ; 

And  tlireads  of  tinsel,  they  chanced  to  cull, 
Were  deftly  mingled  among  the  rest. 

As  the  days  went  by,  and  the  mother  bird 
With  ceaseless  zeal  for  that  home-nest  cared. 

Her  mate,  with  his  melody  .ovingly  heard. 
In  all  her  devotion  most  faithfully  shared. 

Their  patient  love  was  rewarded,  ere  long. 
And  a  nest  full  of  fledgelings  was  there ; — 


liil 


WAIFS  OF  IDLE  HOUHS. 


123 


An  added  sweetness  was  Jent  to  their  song, 
Though  multiplied  labor  and  care. 

But  at  length  of  that  nest  the  days  had  come 

When  its  occupants  left  it  all  bare  ; 
The  limitless  ether  was  now  their  home,- 

And  their  wings  were  the  partners  of  air. 
And  I  thought  how  like  was  our  own  dear  cot 

Tothatnest,  in  its  birth,  in  its  life; 
As  well  as  the  joys  and  cares  of  its  lot, 

Undisturbed  by  the  world's  noisy  strife. 

The  prattles  of  childhood,  the  music  that  cheers  - 
The  hands  full  of  duties  each  day,- 

The  love  that  encircles  and  hallows  the  years. 
As  they're  quietly  passing  away. 

With  these,  and  the  dearer  communion  of  hearts 

That  m  sweetest  of  unison  beat ; 
Away  from  the  world's  gay  pleasures  and  marts 

Its  dwellers  find  a  blissful  retreat. 

But  to  them,  like  the  birds,  there  will  come  the  day 

When  the  cottage  is  empty  and  lone  •- 
Full-fledged  for  the  sky,  they  will  soar  away. 
To  find  pleasures,  while  mortal,  unknown.' 


